Red Moonlight
by mackenzie925
Summary: Murder! Chloe tries to solve a big case with Clark's help, but quickly finds herself where she doesn't want to be .. on the hit list.  Halloween scariness, and rated mature because of it.  Will be posted in its entirety.
1. October Nights

**Title:** _Red Moonlight  
_**Rating:**_ M ... no doubt on this one.   
_**Pairing:**_Almost all Chlark ... but there is a some Chlimmy.  
_**Dislcaimer:**_ I do not own Smallville. If I did, season six never would have happened. :-)  
__  
_**Author's Note:** _First off, I will be posting this in its entirety between now and Halloween. This is a Halloween fic, with some graphic pictures, and with a little sex thrown in the mix for good measure. This story takes place at the beginning of season six, and is my take on how things could have been handled after the kiss. Clearly the kiss between Clark and Chloe at the end of season five meant something to Clark, even if the writers won't explore the emotions he expressed. Here in this story, I take those emotions a little more seriously. _

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**_Episode One: _****_October Nights_**

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_Murder._

The main subject of the pages scattered on her desk - the fuselage of a case left unsolved. Chloe scanned the material with a careful, inquisitive, yet also with an exceptionally excited attention span. It had been far too long since she had taken on a case with any value, other than the occasional jaywalking that took up very little of her brain power. Of course, because she was in this lowly position at the Daily Planet, she should feel lucky to receive anything more than a wedding announcement or an obituary. Actually, after her twentieth cup of coffee, the obits turned into quite an interesting read late at night. She would never tell anyone this, but she often discovered the true nature of a person by the word choice loved ones used in an obituary.

Someone with very little to do at the Planet had to find something to fill the time.

At the moment, however, she was blessed with a real grotesque case. It centered mostly on a woman who left late from work one Friday night. The woman climbed into her car and drove due east, towards her home in Farmersville - a small, newly refurbished suburb just outside of Metropolis. Nothing was out of the ordinary until her car broke down a few miles outside of the city, with her home still ten miles away. Immediately she called her husband, and he told her to sit tight until he arrived.

In the meantime, she decided to check the slow smoking engine to see if any amount of her limited automotive knowledge would be of use. With her head under the hood, she neglected to see the approach of another from the brush alongside the opposite side of the road. Since no one was within a ten-mile radius, nobody heard her screams when she was slashed from behind. Nor did anyone hear her fall.

Nor did anyone hear her strangled gasps of terror as her attacker began to feast upon her torn flesh.

Chloe flinched only a little when she read the word _cannibalism_ listed in the details of the file. Her youth spent in Smallville with meteor-juiced criminals helped dampen the shock of the unusual, no matter how ugly. The unusual cases often interested her the most anyway, and she found no trouble investigating them. Her unpublished story on modern-day vampires residing on the Metropolis University campus had spread quickly within the ranks of the Daily Planet, and her reputation for the abnormal was beginning to precede her. People expected her to take on cases of this flavor.

So when her boss approached her earlier in the day to write a follow-up story on the murder, Chloe wasn't surprised. Unfortunately, the city police and the Planet officially closed the file two months ago due to lack of evidence. Both organizations spent time and money to solve the terrifying case, yet neither could produce a solid suspect. Anyone even remotely involved seemed to have had a bulletproof alibi, and any physical evidence gathered at the scene attested to the victim's presence, but no one else's.

Plenty of suspicion, of course. But nothing concrete.

The physical evidence did determine two things, however: the attacker stood on two legs, and slashed the victim from behind with a sharp object. Other than the suggestion of a knife used as a weapon, Chloe wasn't at all certain the assailant was even human. It was an avenue only remotely pursued in previous investigations, mainly because investigators argued no animal could mangle a human in such a meticulous and gruesome way. The killer, by the state of the body he left behind, had one purpose in mind – to dine on its favorite source of food.

Nevertheless, despite the failure of both the authorities and the media to produce anything of value, the Planet sold twice as many editions of the paper than normal while the case unfolded. People were caught up completely in the hype of such a tragic murder. Every office water cooler in town had the topic bulleted into daily conversation, and it had turned into quite a local phenomenon. Metropolis citizens were shocked that an ancient ritual like cannibalism was still practiced in today's society, even if only by one, sick individual. Flowers were sent to the victim's family, and donations were set up to start a scholarship fund for not only the victim's children, but also many to follow.

Over all, the very gross nature of the murder heightened people's interest the most, even if many wouldn't admit it. It was like witnessing a car accident on the freeway - a passerby can't help but stop and stare, no matter how disturbing the tragedy might be.

Maybe Chloe was like everyone else, because she couldn't wait to investigate the case in further depth. The unnatural details were more than enough encouragement for her to continue. Although, her lengthy days spent on wedding announcements and obituaries probably had something to do with her excitement.

Her boyfriend would attest to her interest in the abnormal as something far less admirable, or even comprehendible. Her need to expose the truth at all costs often out ruled any rational, reasonable request to leave a case unsolved due to it's dangerous nature. She was sure to hear the same lengthy, prepared speech she heard every time she went home and told him about a new case. Though, to be perfectly fair, she could be investigating the price inflation of fruit in supermarkets, and her boyfriend would still warn her that an orange, thrown at the right trajectory, could be deadly.

_Overprotective ... I don't think the word is quite enough ... _

Chloe let thoughts of her personal life drift from her mind as she turned the page of the folder. She saw pictures of the crime scene, though none had the victim's body. Obviously, the pictures were taken days after the crime, and by a photographer at the Planet. By the style alone, she had a good suspicion as to the author of the photographs. Quality and authorship aside, the pictures did show the place and depiction of the crime. With enough imagination, and with enough available evidence, a good reporter could almost see the actions of both the criminal and the victim unfold in front of their eyes. More like a sixth sense of sorts, it was a talent Chloe had only recently developed.

While she played out the entire crime in her head, from the moment the woman stepped out of her car until her last, strangled gasp for help, Chloe neglected to hear the sound of footsteps behind her. She spent many nights alone in the Daily Planet basement, and very few of them were spent with anyone else but herself.

Tonight, however, was an exception.

Chloe studied the images closer, and with a keen sense of awareness, she could almost feel the attacker stalking the woman. Maybe he followed her home on foot, or even by car, which he hid in the woods so as not to spook her too soon. So consumed by her current problem, the woman never suspected the pure evil hidden within the brush, watching her every move with round, beady yellow eyes. Nor did she fully grasp the foul stench of death in the air.

It took an extra second before Chloe saw the sudden appearance of a hand on her shoulder. It took an even longer second for her to realize she was supposed to be alone. And it took longer yet for her to react with a tiny scream.

"Oh my God!" Chloe gasped as she turned and fell back into her chair.

The woman behind her smiled in amusement. "Chloe ... serves you right for working so late."

Chloe breathed in deeply, placing a hand over her heart to help stop its rapid thump. Her initial fear drained from her face, only to be replaced with embarrassment. How could she forget she worked half the night with one of her best friends at the Planet?

"Julie, you're going to lose your life one day if you keep sneaking up on people like that," Chloe warned lightly, returning her gaze to the photographs on her desk.

"Not any time soon. I'm young. I've got time to test the waters a bit."

Chloe smirked and took a photograph of one of the suspects out from underneath the large pile. "By experience, I know the waters can drown you faster than a tsunami."

Julie peered over her friend's shoulder and grimaced. "Putting in overtime?"

"Hmm ... overtime suggests I receive income, which I don't," she replied wryly. "No, for the search of truth and justice - and my future at the Planet - I stay here out of the goodness of my heart."

"What does your boyfriend think of your long hours? Doesn't give you much time for the _physical_ aspect of a relationship."

Chloe hid her blush behind an easy shrug. "Jimmy only complains about the danger, not the hours."

"True," Julie conceded knowingly. "He probably has no reason to complain about the latter. When you two are finally together, you really take advantage of it."

This time the blush on Chloe's face could not be stopped. Since her relationship with Jimmy began three months ago, they've had sex only twice. The first time was pleasurable, but mainly an encore of the awkwardness they experienced during the summer they spent together back in high school. However, the second time was far better, which proved to Chloe that practice made a difference.

"It only happened a few times," Chloe defended softly. Jimmy had quickly become familiar and comfortable, and someone she could trust intimately. So giving into him only a month into their relationship felt incredibly easy, and even right. She did _like _him. Love didn't seem quite the appropriate word to describe her feelings, mostly because she knew what loving someone truly felt like. Nevertheless, she wanted to move on with Jimmy. She wanted to love him, and she wanted to believe her thoughts would soon shift from the clumsy, midwestern farm boy to the new photographer at the Daily Planet.

Because apparently farm boys and passionate kisses didn't mix well.

"Wait until you're married. Then you won't have to explain your need for sex," Julie mused.

"It's not like that."

"Really?"

"Of course not," Chloe said, awed her friend would even suggest she would be so inconsiderate. "I like Jimmy."

Julie walked to the right of Chloe to gaze at the photographs on her desk. The photograph directly on top of the large pile captured the spot on the road where the woman's body was found that night. Immediately an eerily, queasy feeling churned Julie's stomach into knots. Just the thought of _cannibalism_ made both her body and soul turn ice cold, and she feared for her friend.

"Sex or not, please heed Jimmy's advice. Watch your back while you're doing this case."

Chloe noticed the tint of green in her friend's features and closed the file. "Don't worry. I have someone who does it for me."

"Jimmy?"

"No," she said quietly, reverently. "Someone else entirely."

Julie almost asked the identity of the person she meant, but bit back the question when she remembered Chloe's best friend. From stories alone, Julie knew Clark and Chloe had survived a lot together, and especially in this past year. By just hearing the story, Julie was sure the likely climax would find Clark and Chloe finally in a long awaited relationship with one another. Instead Chloe was with Jimmy, and Julie really didn't know why, which was the reason why she drilled her friend with so many questions.

But in the end, she always let it go. Chloe's life was her own, and, over all, she did seem happy.

"Well, unfortunately, I have to leave you finally. My husband can only stand so many late nights," Julie said.

Chloe smiled. "Tell him just to blame the psycho reporter investigating X-file cases on a regular basis. I'm sure he'll understand."

"Thanks, I'll do that," she said wryly, and walked over to the coat rack next to the far door. Julie snagged her jacket from the rack and slipped it on, then slid her purse over her shoulder. "See you tomorrow."

"Have a good night," Chloe called. She watched as her friend smiled back warmly in return and walked out of the small newsroom, leaving Chloe alone in the basement. With an exhausted sigh, she grabbed the file from her desk and decided her time to leave had come, as well. She liked late nights, but the fourth one in a row had become far too much for her aching body to handle.

All she wanted now was to go home, take a nice, hot bath, and call Jimmy to tell him about her day. The routine always helped her sleep.

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Julie couldn't believe it.

After she had left the Daily Planet, she walked down four city blocks to reach her car, a used Saturn Vue, which she parked in the CVS Pharmacy parking lot every day. The streets she walked night after night were not safe, though she never had a problem. A few instances her heart rate tripled when she saw a shady form snuggled in a dark alley, or when she narrowly escaped the sexually aroused stares from gang members who often loitered the street corners late at night. Much to her surprise, though in such a crime-infested city, her travel home after work was always uneventful.

Until now.

The drive home always took around twenty minutes through light traffic. When she married her husband, they found a nice little house just outside the city in a small suburb called Black Creek. Though the decision to buy the house was an easy one to make, her husband still fretted about the drive to work Julie would have to make everyday. The freeways were always packed with cars, and dangerous because of hotwire motorists trying to make it to work on time. At night, though the traffic was less, the drive was fairly worse due to a stretch of road that looked more like a vacant country highway than a byway to and from a city. Because very few people lived in their small neighborhood, the road was often quite bare.

Thanks to her luck, Julie's car blew a flat right in the middle of the vacant road leading home. She had only a few miles to go before she could climb into bed with her husband, safe and sound in his arms. Having never broken down before, Julie was unsure of the protocol to find help. First she called her husband at home, but only their answering machine picked up. _Strange, _she thought as she pressed the end button on her cell phone. _He always waits for me until I get home. He must be worried, right?_

Julie decided to call their Auto Club next. Better to call someone she knew would answer. And in two rings, a nice, young woman picked up on the other end. Julie quickly told her of the situation, and also described her location. The woman reassured her someone was on the way, and to sit tight until the Auto Club member arrived. Satisfied, she turned her cell phone off and sat in the car for a few, silent minutes. Because the Auto Club resided in Metropolis, it would take an extra an extra minute or so for them to reach her.

_If only my husband had answered. Then I'd probably be home right now._

Against her better judgment, Julie vacated the car and walked around a little to stretch her legs. She ran a casual hand through her short, blonde hair and stared out at her surroundings draped over by the cold night. Houses sat on her left, though they were driven far too deep into the woods for anyone to see her. If she screamed they probably wouldn't hear her very well, either. On the other side of the road grew a thick patch of woods. It stretched for only a few miles, so dense in the middle, yet thinned greatly as it reached the city limits. No houses resided on this side, though she had heard of local contractors recently buying the land. Metropolis was growing fast, and the woods around it were sure to dissolve very soon.

The temperature dropped below forty degrees, and Julie could clearly feel the change. October weather in Metropolis was always cold, though it rarely snowed this early. At the moment, as she breathed in the nostalgic aroma of a wood burning stove in the distance, she wondered if the city might actually see a record snowfall. She could almost smell the formation of snowflakes in the brisk, winter-like air.

Then she heard it. A distant grumble of a sort - something between a soft roar and an angry groan. Brisk wind whipped by her ears, and for a short while she considered it might have been a barking dog in the distance, begging for it's owner to let it back inside. And as silence settled upon her, she was certain the latter seemed more plausible than anything else.

Yet the sound came again, and this time much louder. Her heart rate sped up with the same fear she often harbored while walking the city streets at night. Instinctively she wrapped her arms around herself and did a quick scan of the surrounding area. Everything seemed quite still, with just the touch of a chilly breeze traveling through the trees. Quietly she prayed the Auto Club would arrive incredibly soon, or, better yet, that her husband would drive by and notice her dire situation.

A strange rush of terrified adrenaline surged through her body when the rustle in the bushes behind her became a bit more violent. She fought the urge to run, and instead glanced over her shoulder into the dark shadows of the woods, expecting to find a person or a shadow. But only the gentle breeze swayed the tumble weeds close to the road, and the more she stared, the more certain she felt her fear was a result of her own imagination. And, of course, because she looked at those damn pictures on Chloe's desk.

_That's right, it's just those pictures, and this stupid case Chloe is working on. I scare easily ... I know I do._

Nevertheless, the good feelings she struggled to grow didn't last very long, because the strong sense that something was terribly wrong outweighed everything else. Suddenly her mind began to whirl like a tornado, and she turned again from left to right for the source of her innermost fear. There had to be a reason, and more than just the casual glance at a few murder photographs. Something out there, hidden in the brush and lost in the dark hole of true horror, lurked closer to her every second, and arose her instinct for fight or flight.

_Maybe I should run ... maybe I should go to those houses up there, _she considered quickly, but the houses might as well have been ten miles away rather than only a few. To travel to them might put her in more danger, because she would be exposed to far more than just a creepy feeling on a dark, country road. It was better to stay put and wait for the Auto Club to arrive.

_They'll fix my car; take me home, and tomorrow morning I'll be laughing at how scared I was._

But the cause for hope in Julie's heart began to fade the moment she heard the footsteps, and their relentless click sent a string of dread directly to her soul. She struggled to catch her breath as her lungs burned helplessly in the October air, desperate for oxygen to supply her body with energy and to meet the demand of her pounding heart. Her skin blossomed with goose bumps from head-to-toe, and her nerves trickled with anxiety.

Her car door was only a few feet away, and suddenly she realized she did have some protection. If she could just make it to the door before the footsteps drew closer, she could be safe within the confines of her vehicle. But even as she summoned her plan of action, the click on the concrete road grew louder in each second of silence. Julie closed her eyes and longed for a car to pass by, any car to scare away whatever hunted her. It would be easy then, because she could turn and see nothing behind her. Turn and discover all she experienced was merely a fantasy, and the direct result of finding interest in her friend's hobbies.

And before she had a second to think, Julie pushed aside her fear and ran to the car door, then opened it quickly. Instinctively, she turned to look at her assailant as she began to climb back into her vehicle --

_Nothing._

Julie's pent up adrenaline drained from her pores and limbs, as the relief quickly washed through her system. Her mind began to rationalize her fearful thoughts, and before long the horror deep inside disappeared. The world returned to normal, and the breeze in the trees became beautiful again.

Then she screamed. Her eyes bulged out as pain surged through her neck, down through her shoulders and chest, and her throat choked on blood. _Her blood ... blood from something piercing her neck. _She tasted copper on her lips, heard the loud crunch of bone as her mind finally realized exactly what was happening. Everything blurred, her surroundings only colorful masses of light in front of her eyes. And the houses she considered running to for safety dropped out of focus.

For a split second the pain was unbearable. She could almost feel her body falling helplessly to the concrete road below, surrendered completely to its fate. The presence of her attacker hovered over her as a dark, round mass, it's outline highlighted only by the orange glow of a streetlight further down the street. It barely gave her wakefulness any attention, because it had already collected the reason that brought it here. For a terrifying moment she sensed it's unsympathetic satisfaction while its sharp teeth sunk deep into her midsection, it's purpose now painfully clear.

Above her, the sliver of the moon swirled in blood red, and the face of her husband drifted to the front of her mind. Because she knew what was coming, and responsively her body suddenly turned completely numb, unable to fight any longer. Numb to the pain, to the moon, the tug of forgiving death finally and mercifully took its hold.

Then everything went black.

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**_to be continued ..._ **


	2. October Mornings

**Episode Two: October Mornings **

**October 20****th****, 2006**

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Morning dawned with a dreary fog that settled comfortably upon the earth, almost wrapping the entire Kent Farm within its white, ghostly vapor. The sun hid well this morning, and Clark struggled to find the strength to climb out of bed while darkness still loomed through his bedroom window. Luckily, his upbringing helped him fight the urge to lie in bed all day, and routinely he rose to tend to the morning chores. He dressed comfortably in a pair of old jeans and a white T-shirt, because his morning chores often carried the most dirt. He would need a shower when he came back in for breakfast, so there was no need to dress for the day just yet.

The rest of the house remained quiet as he walked down the stairs to the kitchen. He grabbed a quick glass of orange juice, then proceeded to the barn to feed the animals. Even with his speed, the chores still took a half hour to finish. Attending these tasks so early in the morning did give him quality time alone, however. He pondered upon his life and those he cared for the most, some thoughts familiar and others completely new. This particular morning he wondered how his father tended to these chores every day for more than twenty years. And after that, Clark concentrated hard on the sexual physique of his best friend - blond hair, curves, and the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen.

In the past few months his thoughts had drifted to her more often than he wanted to admit. Although, he tended to concentrate mainly how well she looked in those jeans the other day, or how yesterday at the Planet he noticed the neckline of her blouse dipped just low enough to give him an exceptional view.

Without using his X-ray vision, of course - which he almost never did.

Before long his chores for the morning were finished, and he walked back to the house to catch his shower. Aromas of a hearty breakfast began to waft through the foggy air, directly to his curious nostrils. Only his mother could make food smell so good, giving him reason to believe she was up already. Usually he had the house to himself for a bit longer before she finally arose for the day. Her job as State Senator gave her little extra time, and she often used it to catch up on her sleep. Too often his mother and Lois stayed up half the night to finish important work, leaving them with difficult mornings.

Clark climbed the porch steps in two leaps, and used the kitchen door to enter the house. Standing at the counter, his mother turned the moment he stepped inside. Her face appeared drawn with exhaustion, and for the first time in years he noticed the development of deep wrinkles along her features. His mother always seemed so young during his childhood, yet today she looked older, aged by both her work and the heartache that has never completely left her.

"Want some breakfast, sweetie?" she asked.

Clark walked up behind her, giving her arm an affectionate squeeze. "Sure," he said.

Bacon crackled and popped in the frying pan on the stove, it's aroma a warm welcome from a morning's work. He had no trouble wondering why his father loved breakfast. It always hit the spot after time spent in the fields, especially on a cold, foggy day in October. Fruit sat idle in a bowl inside the sink, waiting for another good wash before it was ready to be served. A crate of a dozen eggs, open and ready, sat on the counter with the loaf of bread. She already had a few fresh slices on a small plate in front of the toaster, and suddenly Clark sensed the enormity of the meal.

"Mom, you didn't have to make this much," he insisted, remembering the number of recent mornings he ate only cereal or toast while his mother rushed off to work. He understood her schedule and didn't mind eating alone.

Martha smiled warmly. "I know neither of us have had a good breakfast lately, so I decided to make an extra effort to make us eat a bit heartier."

Clark grabbed a fresh grape from the bowl of fruit. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Good," she said, scrunching her nose in slight disgust. "Kent men always need one after they work."

He smirked at her and ate the grape, then proceeded towards the stairs to the second floor. In seconds he had gathered his clothes for his shower, bringing along the Calvin Klein fragrance Chloe enjoyed on him. He barely remembered when or why he bought it - some Saturday he spent with Lois at the mall in Metropolis a few weeks ago. They had come across a cosmetics counter in Macy's, prompting Lois to spray a Calvin Klein aroma on him for fun. When he saw Chloe later on that day at the Daily Planet, she immediately told him how amazing he smelled.

That night he raced back to Macy's and bought two bottles.

The bathroom mirror steamed up from his shower, no matter how quick he tried to be. Because he could handle scalding water on his skin, it was often the only way he could truly feel refreshed after a long day - or dirty morning. If Chloe ever joined him for a morning shower, he would certainly have to turn the temperature down a few degrees before she could come in. The water was sure to burn her otherwise.

Clark pulled his head from underneath the water, his cheeks flushed with sudden embarrassment.

_Chloe ... joining me in the shower? When did that happen? _

He moaned irritably at his loss of control, knowing these types of fantasies were inappropriate. Nevertheless, the fantasy of Chloe in his shower was more than enough to urge on his morning shower erection, and in seconds he was moaning, his head pressed against the tile as he stroked himself to relief. _Thinking of her, only her ... pressed up against me, arms around my waist, lips along my throat ..._

After he towel dried and dressed in a red sweater and jeans, all the while trying desperately to forget his images of Chloe, Clark walked down the steps to the kitchen. He could already smell the eggs in the frying pan, cooked to perfection, and the toast burning nicely in the toaster. It had been a long time since he had a nice, big breakfast, and to have it with his mother, whom he's barely spoken to because of their busy schedules, made the anticipation for the meal rise even higher.

But when his eyes gazed to the table on his descent down the stairs, he saw a third party he didn't count on.

"Finally up, Smallville?"

Clark rolled his eyes as he walked to the kitchen table. "Lois, don't you have a home of your own?"

Lois smirked. She was sitting in his normal chair with her briefcase open, and laptop up and running to start the day. She was like an Energizer Bunny on most mornings, strangely having more energy than all of the Smallville citizens combined. She used to hate mornings when he first met her, but her role as manager for his mother seemed to unleash a crazy section of her that no one had ever seen before. Perhaps the late nights were having the opposite affect on her - rather than exhausted, she was more wired than a bomb on a bank vault.

And Clark feared the inevitable explosion.

"Until your mother ends her reign as State Senator, her home is my home."

Clark walked to the refrigerator for some orange juice. "But do you have to be here every waking moment? You're starting to scare the cows."

As Martha walked passed and placed the plate of eggs on the kitchen table, she slapped him across the forearm. "Stop being rude, Clark."

"To Lois?" he asked in mock surprise. "We're always rude to each other."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Kent. I know what has his feathers ruffled these days," Lois replied, giving Clark a knowing look. "And it's not this cousin."

Clark gave Lois a stern glance, annoyed she would use his mixed up love life as ammunition in their banter. She discovered his feelings for Chloe a few months back, when Clark barely understood how he truly felt about his best friend. Everything had been so screwed up because of Zod and the Phantom Zone, and when life finally returned to normal, Clark realized his thoughts centered mostly on his blonde best friend rather than the brunette he pined over for years of his childhood. Before he could make sense of those thoughts, those feelings, Chloe had fallen into another man's arms, leaving Clark bewildered and unsure of what to do next.

Shortly afterwards, on one of those dreadful, lonely summer nights in Smallville, Clark found a picture of his best friend nestled in a desk drawer up in his loft. For the next twenty minutes he merely stared at the picture, envisioning Chloe was actually with him. Soon he settled on the couch, with the picture still in hand, and began to play out the conversation where he bravely revealed his true feelings to her. Unfortunately for him, Lois had been on the bottom floor of the barn listening to his every word. And after he finished, she climbed the steps and replied, "What took you so long?"

Actually, he expected Lois to be angry, or, worse yet, fool with him until she was blue in the face - _Ah! Chloe found someone, and now YOU'RE the one in pain, watching from a distance. _

Instead she sat with him and reassured him that Chloe's relationship with Jimmy was not serious. She reassured him that his time to act would come very soon, and to hold on until that time came. Further, she insisted if he really loved Chloe, then he could wait just as long as she did for him - so many years, and through so much heartache.

But that was four months ago. And Clark was growing impatient.

If Chloe's relationship with Jimmy was only supposed to be a fling, then why hadn't _flung _yet? He expected to have Chloe in his arms by Halloween, or at least Thanksgiving. But by the contentment in her voice when he spoke to her, Clark sensed it would be a long time before he could finally have his chance.

That is, if she ended it with Jimmy at all. When Clark allowed himself to think of such a dreadful conclusion, his stomach turned and rolled with anxiety. And he began to wonder if maybe, possibly, the time to tell Chloe his feelings would have to be his own.

He wondered if he should just do it ... _just tell her_.

Clark looked to Lois now and saw a pleasant, satisfied smile on her face. She knew how tortured he felt every time she spoke of his feelings for Chloe in an amused manner. These feelings he harbored for Chloe embarrassed him time and again, and mainly because he was hopelessly in love with her. He had faith that one day he would be with her, just like a wistful romantic waited for their perfect love. He waited in his loft day after day, night after night, for Chloe's love to travel to him on the twinkle of every star in the sky, colored with beauty, with eternity.

Many nights he could almost feel her. Almost touch her.

Other nights he came within an inch of his sanity, and barely held back the urgency to stand outside her door, only to feel closer to her. He dreamt one night of actually going to her door and knocking for her attention. In his dreams she opened the door, and without a word, Clark stepped up courageously and kissed her, returning the passion she gave him at the Planet months before. She groaned pleasurably against his lips, then pulled back and took his hand. His eyes never left her as she tugged him into her apartment, and back further into her bedroom. The door closed behind them, and for the first time since they've met, Clark would have Chloe all to himself.

"Are you ever going to tell her?" Martha asked. Because she lived in this house, too, and because she knew her son, she caught onto his feelings even before he did. Though she believed in a course of action different from Lois' - _when you find the right time, tell her. Don't wait. _

Clark lowered his head to hide his blush. He grabbed the plate of bacon from the counter, then quickly joined Lois and sat across the table from her. He decided if he didn't say anything, maybe they would drop the subject. He still had no clue what he was going to do anyway, so he had no real answer for them. None of the possible scenarios offered a foolproof result. He wanted to tell her now. Actually, he would have told her a long time ago had he had the chance. But he feared her reaction. He knew how often he rejected her, and remembered her apathetic dismissal of their monumental, Daily Planet kiss when they finally reunited the day after he returned from the Phantom Zone. She was likely to do the same thing again, especially if she was currently in a happy relationship with Jimmy.

"I don't know," he finally whispered, hating that everyone seemed to know whom he longed for. He reached for the eggs and forked a few onto his plate. "It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" Lois asked, amused. "You've turned into her little love slave. Whenever she wants you to do something, you do it without a second's thought. If she called you at midnight and wanted you to buy a latte at the Talon and run it to her on foot, from Smallville to Metropolis, you would do it. If that's not lovesick, I don't know what is."

"You exaggerate," Clark insisted weakly, though his blush turned from a light pink to a deep, rosy red, and he wondered if Lois discovered his recent errand. Chloe called him last week at a very late hour, and casually mentioned her need for Talon coffee to help keep her awake while she did research. Clark, being the good, super-powered alien friend he was, rushed to the Talon for the coffee, then super sped to the Planet in Metropolis to give it to her. The thoughtful task took him less than ten minutes to complete, and greatly surprised the unsuspecting Chloe.

But for her, he would happily run from one side of the Universe to the other. Anything to make her happy.

"I know you, Mr. Kent. You take things to the extreme. Even with Lana you were this way. Though you seem worse this time around," Lois said.

Clark took a sip of his juice. "I'm not that in love with her," he defended, struggling to keep his face.

"Oh yeah?" she challenged with a grin. "Then why - everyday - do you put on a gallon of cologne that you don't even like?"

Martha smiled at Lois, because she, too, noticed a new scent on Clark in the past few weeks. He rarely ever put cologne on, and if he did it was always for a school dance or a date. Lately he's been applying some every day after his morning shower, as if he's expecting something to happen and he wanted to be prepared. Martha only remembered one similar incident in her own past, and it had to do with Jonathan never growing a mustache or beard because he knew she didn't like it.

Clark's expression fell like a lead weight in water when Lois mentioned his new appeal to Calvin Klein, and he gazed down into his eggs sheepishly. It was true - he wore the cologne because Chloe mentioned how wonderful he smelled while he was wearing it. And Clark suddenly had no defense, because deep down he knew why he did certain things in the past few weeks. He did them for Chloe, because she mentioned how much she liked it, or how she craved a midnight fix of her addiction.

"I like wearing it," he finally replied, keeping his eyes glued to his plate.

Lois took a slice of bacon from the serving plate and placed it on her own. "Whatever you say, Clark. Still, the point has been made here. You are love sick for Chloe, and because you don't feel comfortable telling her, you've become her full service farm boy."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is."

"No," Clark insisted calmly, shaking his head to dismiss her claims. "I just like doing things for my best friend."

The song Monster Mash began to play in a melody of beeps and whistles from the cell phone in Clark's pocket. Lois smiled wide, always amused by Clark's choice of ring tones. One week it would be the theme to Star Wars, and the next the song from some retro TV Show, like Knight Rider or the A-Team. Today Clark decided to take hold of the upcoming holiday and use a geeky Halloween song played at costumes parties because of tradition alone. If it's not played, it's like going through Christmas without hearing Jingle Bells.

Lois looked at him expectedly as he pulled out his cell phone to see the identity of the caller. She waited for him to say something, but he merely stood from the table and walked over to the counter so he could talk more privately. Though, the privacy he sought was few and far between, because Lois shifted her chair closer to listen for the name of the person on the other end.

Clark gave Lois a disgruntled look and gestured for her to get away as he pushed the button to answer the call. He placed it to his ear, and tried desperately to hide his smile. "Hey," he said softly, warmly.

Lois watched as Clark listened carefully, and though he said nothing to give away the caller's identity, the curve of a small smile on his lips was enough. She smirked knowingly, and rose to her feet so she could stand closer to him while he conversed with the person on the other end. He grimaced in her direction and tried to move to the living room, but she merely stepped in front of him.

Martha rolled her eyes and continued eating the eggs and bacon on her plate. Past experience taught her to stay as far away from Lois and Clark as possible while they argued. Today was no different.

"You want me to come see you?" Clark asked. He pushed Lois away from him lightly and hurried into the other room, trying desperately to end the call before she tried anything.

But Lois wasn't so easily pushed aside. She snuck up behind him while he conversed with the caller, and placed her lips close to his ear - the same ear with the cell phone pressed closely against it. She smiled mischievously, and then insisted softly, "Tell her you love her, Clark."

He jumped and nearly dropped the phone as he turned to her, his eyes burning with frustration and anger. "Lois, stop it!" he whispered harshly, covering the receiver with the palm of his hand. Clark placed the cell phone back to his ear, his face flushed with embarrassment. His heart pounded hard in his chest, hoping Lois' words went unheard. "Still there?" he asked.

Lois stepped back from him, willing to give him the moment he needed to end the call. But she wasn't going to leave until she was certain of the caller's identity, because it was sure to prove her point from before. Not to mention, she loved giving Clark a hard time, especially when he could be so easily embarrassed. Love can embarrass anyone, and mostly because it makes people display a private part of themselves. Love makes people do anything and everything, and Clark was a true testament of that conclusion.

"No, Lois was trying to make me drop the phone," he said into his cell, though his hard gaze remained on Lois as he spoke. However, soon the anger in his face drained as he listened carefully. He turned away from Lois and walked closer to the window that looked out upon the quiet Kent farm. The fog had not lifted quite yet, but the peek of the sun in the sky ensured the white vapor would dry up very soon. "Oh, Chloe ... I'm so sorry," he said quietly, wishing he was there with her now. "When did it happen?"

Lois had lost her amusement when she heard the serious tone in Clark's voice. Though her initial impression was correct, and Chloe did call Clark to talk, obviously something had gone terribly wrong. She began to make predictions in her mind as to what the problem might be - _was her Dad okay? Maybe something happened to her. Or maybe something happened to Jimmy? Did she break up with him?_

Despite the number of times she has chided Clark for how often he thinks of Chloe, and how often he craves her in his life, Lois finally realized the need worked both ways. Chloe called Clark whenever she needed someone to talk to, or whenever she needed comfort. She called Clark when she needed help, and the frequency of her calls didn't lessen when she acquired Jimmy as a boyfriend. She still called, and Clark still helped her.

"Yeah, I'll help you with it. Actually, I'd prefer it. I don't want you investigating this on your own," he said softly. His chest began to tighten with worry and grief as he listened to her tears. He could hardly stand to hear her upset, and longed to run to her and pull her into the safety of his arms.

But he couldn't. No ... Chloe had a boyfriend. That was Jimmy's job, not his.

"All right," he said finally. "I'll see you soon."

Clark closed his cell phone and turned to Lois, who stood patiently, awaiting the news. They stared at each other for a long moment before Clark finally looked down to the cell phone still in his trembling hands. When did he begin to tremble? "Chloe's friend at the Planet was murdered last night."

Lois sighed deeply, and felt a tingle of relief wash through her body. She feared the absolute worse here, and was strangely comforted to know none of the bad news had anything to do with Chloe or her father. However, her relief could not wash away the imminent sadness of the news. "That's too bad. Is she doing okay?"

He shrugged. "She was crying a little on the phone," he said. "But she wants me to help her investigate the murder."

Lois furrowed her brow. "The Planet assigned her the case?"

"Not really. But she wants to investigate it anyway."

"Sounds like Chloe," Lois offered with a resigned sigh. However, something odd surfaced in Clark's features. Something she couldn't place her finger on. "What? What is it?"

Clark's face grew grim. His hands trembled because, for the first time, he was seriously worried for Chloe's safety. He had heard of reporter's getting too close to the truth, and suffering their own demise as a result. This case felt a bit too dangerous for a newcomer. Well, for anyone really. It seemed something better suited for the police, and the professionals trained to handle the seriousness of this murder.

Yet Chloe, with determination and stubbornness in full toll, was going to investigate this case to avenge her friend's gruesome death. And Clark suddenly worried if his abilities would be enough this time.

Lois stepped closer to him and placed a gentle hand on his forearm. Only then did she notice the slight tremble in his hands. "Clark?" she asked, now seriously concerned.

Clark swallowed hard. "Apparently the body is barely recognizable," he murmured, feeling his heart grow cold. "The killer might practice cannibalism."

**_0000000000000000000000000_**

**_to be continued_**


	3. Where It Stands

**Episode Three: Where It Stands **

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The murder of Julie Thompson shot the Daily Planet with quarts of adrenaline. Clark had to slither through the crowds huddled at the front door like a snake in grass to reach the elevators located towards the back of the lobby. Local TV networks and National Media stations, such as ZNN and Fox News, sent their best news analysts to report on the horrible crime. Perry White, the newly hired Editor and Chief for the Daily Planet, and young entrepreneur Nathan Hannigan, the CEO of the paper, stood behind a podium throughout the press conference. The scene felt a little odd as Clark watched the reporters yell and scream questions, because he had not realized the case had grabbed such national attention. Once he made his way through the crowd, he stood towards the back, crossed his arms, and watched as the Editor and CEO of the Planet struggled to keep control.

"We're doing the best we can to investigate the reason for this murder," Nathan Hannigan said calmly. The young CEO wore a gray suit, freshly pressed to make him look clean, crisp. His voice was soft, his body physically fit, and had not one blemish to deter his perfect image. His brown hair was cut very short, though a little longer than a military buzz cut. He seemed almost as tall as Clark, towering over Perry White by more than a few inches.

One of the Fox News reporters suddenly shouted out, "This type of murder happened before, and only a few months ago. And the victim was a Daily Planet employee. Are you bulking up security at the Planet to protect the other employees? Seems the murderer as a vendetta against the paper."

Hannigan nodded sadly. "Yes, unfortunately, this is the second murder of a Daily Planet employee. However, we have not confirmed that the two murders are at all related. But security will be doubled due to the murder last night, and we will take every precaution necessary until the police discover the identity of the killer."

Clark looked through the crowd and almost expected to see Chloe in the very middle, frantically waving her hand in the air so they would call on her to ask a question. However, he saw nothing even remotely resembling her, and decided she must still be down in the basement waiting for him. He turned away from the press conference and headed to the elevators, though his mind played the words of the Fox News reporter's question in his head – _This type of murder happened before. And to a Daily Planet employee._

His worry for Chloe doubled in strength every second he mulled over the implication in the reporter's voice. It was very likely that the killer aimed specifically for the Planet employees, though the reason remained unclear. Clark remembered a similar scenario back in high school. Van McNulty, a Smallville High student, decided to extinct all the people affected by the meteor rocks because he felt they were a menace to society. He nearly killed Clark with a kryptonite bullet - an experience Clark never wanted to go through again. The pain had been excruciating, and like nothing he had ever experienced before.

But Van was determined to fulfill his chosen destiny.

So someone bent on the extinction of the Daily Planet, or those who worked for it, was definitely a likely conclusion, especially in Kansas.

Clark rode the elevator down to the basement with only a few other people. When the doors slid open, he was happy to see the massive congestion in the lobby had not reached this far down. Though, to be perfectly fair, the basement did seem a bit busier than usual as he walked out into the floor. People rushed by him at a fast pace, but he made his way easily to the small newsroom towards the middle of the area. The glass doors to the entrance of the newsroom were propped open, and he walked through the doorway to find Chloe.

Like he suspected, Chloe had remained in the newsroom basement. She was sitting on the edge of her desk with the phone to her ear, talking quickly into the receiver to someone Clark didn't know. Even with his super hearing, the commotion of the room made it difficult for him to pinpoint the conversation and identify the person on the other end. But he immediately berated himself for his dishonesty - Chloe hated it when he eavesdropped on her conversations when she wasn't aware of it. Clark loved that Chloe knew of his abilities, but sometimes her knowledge made it difficult for him to do things secretly, though probably unethical in nature. He truly listened to her conversations because he worried, and not because he needed to know everything she was doing. He wasn't trying to be nosy at all.

He approached her from behind, and she immediately turned with the sound of his footsteps. She smiled the second she recognized his face, with eyes red and puffy from her morning's tears. Clark placed a hand on her shoulder while she ended the phone call.

"Yeah ... I'll be in touch soon," she promised the caller, then placed the receiver back in the phone cradle.

Clark wanted to say something to make her feel better, but she didn't give him a chance to find the right words. Chloe hopped off the desk and slid into his arms, burying her face into his chest. His heart sped up as he wrapped his arms around her protectively, unable to fight the lightning strike of excitement to his nerves. He loved having her in his arms, and wouldn't trade one moment of the experience for anything else in the world. Even if he wasn't her boyfriend, the role had been his in comfort and support ever since they've known each other. He had her back, and he always would.

"You okay?" he asked after a moment.

Chloe nodded and lifted her head from his chest with a heavy sigh. A wet spot had formed on his shirt from her tears, and she wiped it with a weak smile. "Sorry. I don't know why, but I've been an emotional shipwreck today."

Clark smiled warmly, placing his hand on her cheek. "Hey ... don't worry about it." He noticed the smear of her mascara across her cheek and swiped it away with his thumb. "You lost a friend last night. It's okay to be sad."

"I'm angry," she added quickly. She pulled away from Clark to grab a manila folder on top of her desk. Before he could give it a scan with his X-Ray vision, she handed it to him. "Take a look."

He took the file and opened it to the first page. Inside were police reports, though some of the lines on the report were blacked out with a magic marker. He turned the police reports over to see the pictures hidden underneath. They were taken at night, and showed a dead body lying next to a car. Clark furrowed his brow in confusion before he glanced up to Chloe. "Are these the pictures from the murder last night?"

Chloe shook her head. "No, they're the pictures from the murder back in May."

Clark took another glance at the file, then looked back up at Chloe for an explanation.

"Just yesterday my boss gave me the case. He wanted me to do a follow-up story for it, and explain whether any advancement had been made since the trail turned ice cold back in July. Apparently, the police were about to cold case the murder for good."

Clark scanned the police reports again. The basic descriptions inside mentioned the details of the woman killed - early to mid twenties, blonde hair, and blue eyes. She also worked for the Daily Planet in the payroll department for almost two years. Again the question from the reporter in the lobby haunted Clark - _This type of murder happened before. And to a Daily Planet employee. _Underneath the details of the victim, Clark saw the likely cause of death: _cannibalism. _The heart had been removed and was not found. The liver was also missing, and much of the woman's face and skin had been torn to shreds. Also, the back of the neck had been slashed with a sharp object, either a knife or possibly teeth from an animal. The latter of which was deemed as the ultimate, fatal blow.

And the sickness Clark harbored in regard to Chloe's safety began to settle uncomfortably in his chest.

"So I guess this old case has taken a front row seat again?"

"More than that," Chloe said. "It's been given a VIP pass straight to the head of the line. Both the police and the Planet have assigned new people to both cases. They're hoping fresh investigators will be able to find the sick bastard this time."

Clark noticed the saddened tone in Chloe's voice. He looked up from the file to see if her tears had returned, and was ready to draw her into his arms if she needed to be comforted once more. But no tears strained the corners of her eyes this time. He wondered if he should offer to take her somewhere safe, especially since she was so close to the victim. He knew she might decline; yet he wanted to offer anyway. To ensure Chloe's safety, he would find this killer personally.

But the words barely reached his mouth before another person came into their conversation.

"Hey, babe. Here's your coffee," Jimmy said from a few feet away. He walked up to her, coffee in hand, and gave her small kiss on the lips. Clark inched back from them with repulsion bubbling at his core. _Could this day get any worse?_

"Thanks, sweetie," Chloe said with a tired smile. She took the coffee and kissed him again, just a peck on the mouth, but enough to stick the knife in Clark's heart just a little further.

Jimmy nestled closer to her, wrapping a warm arm around her shoulder. She took a sip of her coffee and let her body melt into Jimmy's loving embrace. The sensation of his body pressed against hers felt wonderful and safe, forcing her to forget her sadness for a moment. But when she finally looked up from her downward, aimless stare, she saw Clark still standing next to her desk quietly. Throughout her entire, intimate moment with Jimmy, she had forgotten all about him and felt instantly embarrassed because of her insensitivity.

His eyes had dropped to the file in his arms the moment Chloe had returned her boyfriend's kiss, determined not to look up and see the public displays of affection anymore than he had to. Granted, if he were receiving Chloe's kisses, he may not mind so much. But in any other circumstance, he wanted to crawl under a table and die.

"I called Clark to help me with the case," Chloe finally said to Jimmy, trying to make up for her previous forgetfulness.

Jimmy smiled, though Clark sensed a jealous flare in his eyes. He had spoken with Jimmy many times before, had even saved his life, but this was the first time he actually sensed hostility from the younger man. Clark could not explain the rise of satisfaction in his heart, but it made him smile with a renewed sense of worth. _Yeah ... she called me to help her. ME._

"Well," Jimmy began, the jealousy suddenly gone from both his features and also his tone, "I hope you have better luck convincing her not to do this case."

"I could try, but I know I would lose," Clark said.

"Still, I worry about you," Jimmy replied, turning back to Chloe. He took her hand in his and drew her close. "I just don't want anything bad to happen to you."

Chloe smiled sweetly, knowing she had this conversation with Jimmy countless times in the past. Nevertheless, despite how often it aggravated her, at a time like this it felt incredibly sweet. She knew Jimmy worried, and she knew it was because he loved her. When she felt her own safety might be at risk, it was wonderful to know Jimmy worried about it, too. She recalled their physical intimacy a few months back, having had sex twice in the matter of only a week. Since then, Chloe told him she wanted to take it slower, and he understood. Though his need for her didn't seem to lessen one bit. He still tried to seduce her, and each time it took longer and longer for her to say no.

She was sure they would eventually have sex again, but it would have to wait until she could get past her personal insecurities. There were reasons why she wanted time, though she has yet discovered them.

Right now, while in his arms, and despite her insecurities, Chloe had to fight the urge to let Jimmy take her home and forcefully push away her doubts with his intimate touch. She had a feeling it wouldn't take too long to forget why she pushed him away – just seconds of him inside her would wipe all of it away.

But Julie's face floated to the front of her mind, making her remember why she needed to investigate this case, and test the inherent danger. Her obsession with the paranormal aside, Chloe needed to do this to avenge her friend's death. She needed to. Clark gave her a rock solid security blanket that she couldn't get from anyone else. Plus, it would help to have Clark's input as the case progressed. Past experience has taught her the value of having Clark Kent by her side, and mostly for the intelligence he can give to an investigation. Their time at _The Torch _also helped them tune their investigative skills, and she wouldn't want to tackle a case of this magnitude without him.

Hopefully Clark's presence would also soothe Jimmy's worries, as well, because she would no longer be doing this case alone.

"There's nothing to worry about," Chloe insisted. Jimmy eased his arms down to her waist, which urged her to step closer to him. "Trust me. Clark and I have experienced more than our lion's share of precarious situations. We know how to take care of ourselves." _Actually_, she thought, _Clark knows how to take care of both of us_.

Jimmy sighed in resignation, though he tightened his grip on her waist as if not to let her go. "I said I would help you if you needed it."

Clark suddenly chimed in, unable to help himself. "Seriously, Jimmy ... Chloe and I can do this by ourselves. The fewer people involved, the better." Though his words were to keep Jimmy safe, and he meant well, Clark also voiced his opinion to keep Jimmy away from them for a few days. Obviously Jimmy would only be gone while he and Chloe were in the heat of investigation, but the time alone with her might just give Clark the opportunity to tell her how he felt. Seeing her with Jimmy promptly ignited his need to tell her how much he thought of her on a daily basis, and how often he longed to be the one to take care of her.

Luckily, Chloe seemed happy that he spoke up in her defense, having never caught on to his underlying reasons. She smiled at him, then turned her attention back to Jimmy, whose eyes had never left her face. "Clark's right. It's better you're not linked with this."

Jimmy nodded and gave her another kiss, this time a bit longer and deeper than the previous two. Clark felt his chest tighten into a ball of frustration, and stepped away from them a little further so he didn't have to see anymore.

"I love you," Jimmy whispered softly.

Chloe blushed. "I know."

Fortunately, Clark's curiosity ensured he heard those words. Though Jimmy beat him to the punch, Chloe didn't return the sentiment. Even so, Clark wondered if he had waited too long to make his move. Lois seemed so sure that Chloe's relationship with Jimmy was going to fail, and like the chump he was, he believed her. An image from the future surfaced to his brain, like a shark swallowing his dreams. He saw Chloe and Jimmy married, with children, and he the melancholic, benevolent uncle, with both the receding hairline and the dozen cats, who had let the best thing in his life pass him by.

"Ready?" Chloe asked.

Clark turned to her, though his eyes dropped immediately to her hand slipped neatly inside of Jimmy's. _Oh, to be that hand ... _

"Sure," he said.

Chloe gazed at Jimmy, gave his hand a squeeze, then promised, "I'll call you later, okay? We have the bonfire tonight."

The time of the season suddenly rushed through Clark's mind like a freight train. He had almost forgotten about the festivities in Smallville this weekend. It was the annual Fall Festival in his hometown, and the entire county came in to celebrate the season. Smallville always had the festival just before Halloween, and, aside from the admiration of the season, the upcoming holiday was always the center of attention. Clark had gathered bushels of fresh fruits and vegetables to add to the food tent for Sunday's big schedule. Smallville always had rides, games, and vendors to buy fresh pumpkins, pies, fresh cider, and crafts on the last day.

Tonight was the bonfire, and he was surprised neither his mother nor Lois reminded him of it.

Jimmy smiled. "Right. I can't wait. I'll make sure we have a blanket to share."

_Is the knife all the way in it yet? Or is there still a ways to go?_

Chloe blushed again, and Clark felt his stomach roll in disgust. "Make sure it's warm," she whispered, giving Jimmy a wink.

They said another goodbye, with both kisses and words, while Clark moved over to look at the bulletin board on the far left wall of the newsroom. He wanted to keep his mind on anything besides the two lovebirds behind him - especially when he felt the short, snarky blonde should be in his love nest instead. The case file Chloe had given to him was still in his hands, and he opened it again to give the photographs of the crime scene another look. If he knew Chloe at all, he had a feeling she would want to go the crime scene of the current case first. It made sense, really - the two of them new how important it was to see the crime scene before too much of it had changed because of police, or other reporters. Or even the weather, for that matter.

"Hey," Chloe said behind him.

Clark felt her hand on his arm, and he turned around to look at her. Jimmy was gone now, leaving only the two of them in the busy newsroom. Immediately he felt the sad weight on his heart lift when he realized he would have Chloe to himself for an entire day. Because of the Fall Festival (he still couldn't believe he let it slip his mind! But thinking about a girl every waking hour can do that to a guy), Clark had finished many of the farm chores, leaving only the daily, morning routine to take care of throughout the weekend. He would do a little more when he came home tonight, but his super speed ensured the work would take him no more than an hour to finish.

Then he could go to the bonfire and hang out with his friends. _And watch Chloe and Jimmy cuddle under ONE blanket ... I can't wait._

"Jimmy had things to do?" Clark asked. Chloe gave him a look of disappointment, catching him off guard. "What?" he asked, a little confused. He didn't realize he said his comment with more than just a little contempt.

Chloe shook her head and urged him towards the exit of the newsroom. "You could at least try to like him, Clark. He may not be the most famous, bald-headed millionaire ever to grace the wistful corn fields of Smallville, but he still deserves more than your usual suspicion."

Clark grabbed her jacket from the rack next to the door and helped her slip it on. "Lex and I aren't friends anymore," he argued, trying to divert their sudden argument from his hostility towards Jimmy.

"But how long did it take you to become friends with him when you first met? Twenty seconds? You gave the most unethical businessman in history a chance to be your friend. Why can't you give Jimmy, a photographer at the Daily Planet, the same courtesy?"

"He wasn't unethical then."

Chloe huffed. "Yeah, right ... and I'm Lana Lang."

Clark glanced to her in frustration. "What does it matter?" he asked. They walked to the stairs, deciding to bypass the line at the elevators since they only had to travel up one floor.

"It matters," she began matter-of-factly, leading them to the lobby of the Planet, "because you're my best friend. And I want my boyfriend and my best friend to get along - not have a penis measuring contest every time they see each other."

Clark chose not to say anything in response, and kept the lobby exit in his sights. He had no wish to discuss this subject right now, mainly because he was unprepared to tackle it at length. No words short of _"I love you"_ could sufficiently describe the reason for his disdain for Jimmy – or rather, his convenient entry into their lives. After he had just heard Jimmy tell her the exact same thing, he felt the timing to reveal his feelings to Chloe right now slipping away. She was far too upset over her friend's death to handle it, and Jimmy was still a glitter of love and affection in her mind. More than anything, if he told her now, he was sure he would quickly become the bad guy who tried to break up a good relationship. And worse yet, his words would only seem hollow.

"Clark, don't walk away from me," she insisted, grabbing his arm from behind. "Tell me why you've placed my boyfriend on the Clark Kent hit list. I want to know."

He sighed deeply, then finally conceded with an entirely new explanation that would suffice for now. "Fine. I just don't trust him. And with you going out with him, I'm even more suspicious because I'm worried for you. I just don't want to see you hurt." Which was all true, actually. Clark was worried for her, and he really didn't trust Jimmy.

Chloe smirked. "Liar," she said softly, knowingly.

"Seriously, I don't trust him."

"And you don't trust him because you're jealous," Chloe said, her sense of certainty a bit scary for Clark. He wondered if he had possibly given too much away, whether in his facial features or in the tone of his voice. Then again, he remembered how well Chloe knew him, and just his eyes could tell her everything she wanted to know. He really hoped that wasn't the case here, because he didn't know how much more heartache he could take today.

"I'm not jealous," Clark replied, afraid Chloe heard the crack in his voice.

Chloe giggled and started to walk towards the exit again. "Clark, I promise ... my friendship with you will not change one bit. We'll always hang out together, no matter whom I might go out with. You won't lose me as a friend."

_Friend ... good, she was thinking friend ... _

_Is that good?_

Clark smiled and decided to go along with her if it would deter her from the real reason. "You know ... you're right, Chloe," he said. He hurried to the exit door that led to the cold, October morning and propped it open so she could walk through it. "I am. I'm worried I'll lose you as a friend," he admitted, which, all in all, was partly true. Only partly.

Chloe casually grabbed a hold of his upper arm as they walked, having done so a million times before. "You have nothing to worry about, Clark," she reiterated again, leading him towards the direction of her VW, which was parked on the street a few blocks down. "You can't get rid of me that easily." Then she slipped her hand into her pocket and retrieved the Daily Planet ID tag that read _'Clark Kent' _across its face. With a large smile, she reached up and pinned it to his sweater, just below his right shoulder. "And I think we should do this right, don't you?"

Clark glanced down to the tag. He had to admit ... it looked good on him. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she said, grinning wide. She took a hold of his arm once more, and Clark smiled at her closeness.

They traveled two blocks without either saying a word, though the click of their shoes on the concrete was a wonderful backdrop to their silence. Clark didn't want it any other way - walking the streets of Metropolis with Chloe on his arm.

Suddenly she leaned into him, and he heard her sniff with great curiosity. He gazed down to her nervously, hearing Lois' words in his mind - _You put on a gallon of that stuff, and you don't even like it. _"What?" he asked her, fearing he applied too much.

She smiled sweetly, her cheeks now aflame with her blush. "I just love how great you smell."

Chloe looked pretty good on him, too.

**000000000000000000000**

**_to be continued ..._ **


	4. Pretense

**Episode Four: Pretense**

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The drive to the crime scene took less than ten minutes in mid-morning traffic. Chloe drove the streets of Metropolis with extraordinary ease, and Clark wondered how often she traveled through the city on a daily basis. Certainly having been born in Metropolis had something to do with her knowledge of its streets and buildings. When he read the name of Julie Thompson's neighborhood, he realized he had never heard of Black Creek before. However, Chloe knew exactly where to go, and pointed out the immediate similarity between Julie's murder and Erika Lawson's murder, the victim of the first case. Both took place just minutes outside of the city on a mostly vacant road, where overgrown brush could hide the assailants approach on his prey.

Clark mulled over those conclusions as Chloe drove close to the crime scene. Police cars lined in a row on each end of a one-mile radius created a perimeter to keep all bystanders and curious spectators away. The perimeter was also created to keep the press out, as well, though Chloe didn't let that stop her. She brought her VW bug to a halt a few feet from the closest police car, it's lights flashing to warn oncoming traffic to use the detour set a mile before the crime scene. Some cars tried to drive through, but officers were able to stop them before they ventured too far into restricted space. It would be some time before they opened the road to street traffic.

As Chloe shut the car down and fumbled for her purse, her door suddenly swung open. She looked up and saw Clark standing there with a huge smile. "Coming?" he asked.

She smirked. "Aren't you afraid someone will see you when you run around like the Road Runner?"

Clark glanced over his shoulders. "No one's around us really. Plus, I go so fast, no one ever sees me anyway."

A small, brisk breeze rushed past them while Chloe stepped out of the car. Impulsively, she tugged her jacket around her slim form just a little tighter to guard against the chilly air. Too bad she couldn't do the interviews inside her nice, warm car. Luckily Clark was mostly immune to heat, because she was sure any normal man would have begged her to turn the air down to a more livable temperature during their drive. Cold never did suit her well.

Chloe studied the atmosphere of the police scene as they started to walk towards the edge of the perimeter. Clark stood very close to Chloe, though she didn't mind at all. He always stood close to her when they investigated a case together, like he feared what might happen if he let her out of his sight. Of course, he had reason to be worried, because she has been known to find dangerous situations very quickly while alone. It was a gift, really, and one Clark didn't appreciate.

One Jimmy didn't appreciate for that matter, either.

Clark started to run through scenarios and statements they could use to earn their way through the police line. He considered his speed, but that would only bring them more trouble. Though they carried their Daily Planet ID tags and press pass, they were hardly well known reporters. It was likely the police would see them more as a nuisance and insist they leave.

However, his worries were quickly squashed when Chloe shouted to the nearest officer, dressed in a long, brown coat with a badge of his own pinned to his left shoulder.

"Hey, Carlos!" she shouted lightly, their distance still twenty feet from the line.

The officer in the brown coat looked up, and smiled the moment he saw the two of them walking his way. "Chlo ... what are you doing here?"

Chloe sped up her pace to reach Carlos a bit quicker. Clark stayed back from her and watched as the two shared a warm hug. Carlos looked very attractive, to say the least, with dark brown hair and dark eyes. Along with the tip-off from his name, Carlos' dark complexion was a sign of his Latin American background. And Clark suddenly discovered a new reason to be jealous – _how many attractive men does Chloe have in her life? _He also wondered how often Carlos came to see Chloe, and, as a result, pondered upon Jimmy's reaction to the other man's presence. Apparently by their greeting alone, Chloe and Carlos were close, or had known each other for quite some time. Perhaps their friendship was merely platonic - in the same way Clark was with Chloe.

Yet as he came up closer to them and noticed Carlos' gaze centered completely on the woman of _his_ dreams (more specifically a few centimeters south of her lovely face), Clark knew he wanted nothing more than for this officer to leave.

"Clark," Chloe said, slipping from the officer's grip, "This is Carlos Sanchez. One of the new detectives on the Metropolis Police Department."

Clark smiled and extended his hand. Carlos returned the gesture, and Clark could clearly feel the other man's attempt to squeeze too tightly, to show his superior masculinity in their handshake. Clark merely turned the corner of his mouth in a smirk and squeezed back, forcing Carlos to take his hand away far sooner than he had wanted to, and with more than just a throb of pain coursing through his arm.

Chloe noticed Carlos' jerk, like a reaction of his hand on a stove, and gave Clark an angry glare. He simply shrugged, as if he didn't realize the strength of his grip, though he knew Chloe would never fall for such a lame excuse.

Carlos, on the other hand, never kept his eyes off Clark, his stare one of intense study. "I thought you were going out with that quirky photographer?"

"I am," Chloe said. "But this is my partner, Clark Kent. We're working the case together."

With that explanation alone, the contempt in Carlos' face drained into genuine kindness. Apparently he had a soft spot for Chloe, specifically when other men were involved. And what the other man saw in Clark was not competition for Chloe's affection, but just another like him - a friend who secretly longed for more. And since Carlos, a detective on the police force, found reason to suspect Jimmy, Clark could stand working with the man for the next few days.

"Hate to break it to you two, but Daily Planet reporters have already been here. So have ZNN reporters, and a few of the other networks," Carlos stated, gesturing to a few news vans on the other side of the perimeter. "A few of them came in last night when the call went out. Luckily the police had gotten here first."

Chloe reached back and gestured for Clark to follow. "Well, we're not the average reporters," she said lightly, making Carlos smile. "Can you tell us anything?"

Carlos started to walk towards the nucleus of the perimeter, where police officers and investigators protected the crime scene itself. Much of the area had already been swept through. Julie's car, a Saturn Vue, still sat idle on the side of the road, with the driver's side door open just as she left it. A few forensic investigators were inside the vehicle checking for prints, and gathering other personal belongings. One object in particular caught Chloe's attention - a necklace Julie's husband had given to her for her birthday. It was wrapped neatly in a plastic bag, ready to be used for evidence in the days to come.

Chloe vowed to retrieve it and give it back to Julie's husband after the case was through.

"You know I shouldn't be saying anything to reporters," he said quietly. "_Any_ reporters."

He stopped them just short of the crime scene, and both Clark and Chloe looked out over the large space. A yellow "Do Not Cross - Police Line" ticker tape, propped about four feet off the ground, engulfed the scene in a twenty-foot radius. Chloe could tell the spot where Julie's body had been found due to the amount of attention drawn to the area from photographers and investigators; right next to her car on the left side and in the middle of the road.

Chloe reached inside of her jacket and revealed her digital camera, and immediately Carlos placed a hand on it.

"You're lucky I'm letting you see this. You're boy from the Planet was here last night with those hotshot reporters. They already took enough pictures. They're lucky we even allowed them to last night."

Chloe's stomach dropped. "Jimmy was here last night?"

"Yeah," Carlos replied. "That's why I was surprised you weren't with him, and thought this guy next to you was your boyfriend."

Clark scanned the crime scene with his super vision, and tried hard not to listen to the conversation. Yet a slice of satisfaction drew his pain away when he heard the news. _So Jimmy was here last night? And didn't tell Chloe or invite her? _

_Score one for the farm boy._

Chloe sighed irritably. "Well, then, if we can't take pictures, how about giving us the unedited version of what happened last night? The made for newspaper version probably won't be enough to go on."

Carlos walked closer to the vehicle, but kept Clark, Chloe, and himself behind the yellow ticker tape. "I guess I can give you a little rundown."

"Great," Chloe said, her fingers drawn to the trigger on her camera to shut the flash off. "Whatever you can tell us."

Clark continued to scan the area carefully. He listened to Carlos as he explained the events of the night before, listing a few basic facts Chloe decided to write down in her notepad. All the while, he looked for anything suspicious or missed in the forensic sweep of the crime scene. Police, no matter how careful, were certain to miss something, especially if the object was too small to see.

"Her body was found by a neighbor who heard screams while she was washing the dishes at her kitchen sink. The witness ventured out of her house, came down this long hill right here, and saw the car with its lights still on. The driver's side door was still open, and she figured the driver might have been hit by a car, or perhaps suffered from a medial condition of some sort. When she came around the front, she screamed. She thinks she remembers hearing rustling of those bushes over on the other side there," Carlos explained, turning to point to the line of brush and woods on the far side of the road.

"What did the body look like?" Clark asked from a few feet away, his eyes still cast in concentration across the large area.

Carlos suddenly tightened up a bit, forcing Chloe to step to him with curiosity. "Don't want to tell us the rest?"

Sadness crossed the officer's face. He looked slightly pale, and Chloe could only imagine what might be going through her friend's head. Police officers often witness some of the most gruesome cases known to man, and cannibalism was certainly an evil not easily handled. Chloe had no clue how she would react if she came across something so horrible. Though she's had experience dealing with evil cases, she was sure nothing would have prepared her for this. She had no wish to see any pictures of the body - Julie or Erika's.

"It was just not something I had ever seen before," Carlos finally said, his voice thick and low. "Half her face was missing, most of her neck, chest, and arms eaten away."

Chloe felt her chest tighten with disgust. But she had to ask. "Are you sure it was a man? Are you sure we're not dealing with some rapid bear who hasn't been getting his daily regiment of bird seed and garbage out of the neighbors' backyards?"

Carlos shook his head. "Maybe ... but I've never seen a bear act like this."

Suddenly a huge gush of wind rushed between them like a tornado, sending fallen leaves from the road swirling around them like a geyser. Chloe instinctively placed a hand over her eyes, just as a Carlos cowered to the right, away from the source of the spontaneous windstorm. Yet in the next second it was completely gone, and the air stood still around them. Investigators from inside the vehicle rushed around to grab the instruments forced from their hands during the freak wind gush. Chloe and Carlos finally looked up once they realized the wind had disappeared just as quickly as it had come.

And Chloe caught a glimpse of Clark, his hair tousled, with a knowing smile on his face.

"What the hell was that?" Carlos asked, brushing away the dirt from his coat.

Chloe smirked and looked back to him. "Nature's way of telling us to wrap this up, I guess."

"Probably a good idea, Chlo. There's not much more I can tell you. If you need anything else, give me a call. I might be able to help, but I can't promise it. You're boyfriend has all the pictures you want. Don't forget that. Though the pictures won't be too exclusive since we didn't let reporters in very close."

"Oh, I won't forget," she promised with an irritable glare in her eye.

They gave each other a small hug, and Clark watched from a few feet away as they said goodbye. He wondered when the two of them met, and under what circumstances. Perhaps another case, or maybe in some random coffee shop in the city. Nevertheless, Clark sensed a history between them. Maybe they dated for a little while, though Clark never remembered Chloe ever mentioning a boyfriend in the past. By the way Carlos ogled her throughout their interview, Clark figured their connection might be as simple as a one-night stand.

Clark swallowed hard with the thought, and his stomach churned with sadness.

"Take care of yourself, blondie," Carlos murmured in her ear. "I don't want to come out here again, and find you as the next victim."

Clark stepped up behind her and watched as they exchanged goodbyes. In his pocket, he held on tightly to the object too small for police eyes.

Chloe pulled back from him. "I'll be careful," she said, and then gestured to Clark's large form behind her. "And I have my trusty sidekick. But you be careful, too. You're closer to this case than I am."

"Will do." Carlos looked to Clark and extended his hand. The handshake this time came off well, as neither tried to out due the other. Clark felt a strange sense of dread for this man standing strong in front of them. Oddly, any jealousy he formed when they first met was long gone, replaced only by a fear he couldn't place. Chloe was right - Carlos Sanchez was very close to this case. And Clark worried he might not be fast enough to safe the younger officer when the time came. "Nice meeting you, Clark."

"You, too."

Carlos gave them one more nod before he turned and walked towards the crime scene. He dipped underneath the yellow ticker tape, and Chloe watched with concern as he began to talk to the investigators. Clark started to tug on her elbow to make her move backwards, but she refused him and kept her eyes glued to the tall officer, now shrouded in danger.

"We should go back to the Planet," Clark said to her, his mouth to her ear.

Chloe nodded, and then replied, "I don't have all warm fuzzies when I think of him involved in this. I mean he's only a first year detective."

"Just like us?" Clark asked.

Chloe glanced up to him, knowing he was right. Her journalistic career was just beginning to take form, and Clark's had not even truly started yet. Neither of them was qualified for a case of this magnitude. Just like Carlos told them, the Planet had already assigned two reporters to the case, with a professional photographer and all. And here they were, struggling to make their way past an official police line. It occurred to her then the reason why Jimmy chose to keep his involvement a secret - because he didn't want to scare her. What Clark and Chloe tried to do for him before was true; keep him separated from the murders so he wouldn't be in danger.

Now they all were.

Clark reached down and grabbed her hand. "Ready?" She nodded and let him pull her towards the direction of her VW bug, her face still drawn in deep concentration. Perhaps she was still mulling over Jimmy's sudden role in this case, or perhaps she had not stopped pondering Carlos' safety. Further still, she might be thinking about her lost friend, her death still a shroud of darkness on her heart.

He, however, had only one person on his mind. And he promised to keep her safe until the case was through.

Actually, he promised to keep her safe until the end of time.

"Still thinking about Carlos?" he ventured.

Chloe shrugged. "A little," she murmured. "And about us."

Clark's ears peeked with interest. "Us?

"Yeah ... our safety. You might be able to throw tractors into space, but even you haven't dealt with something like this before. Maybe this thing is wearing kryptonite when it finally catches up to us. Or maybe this thing started out as a hamster, stepped into some meteor rock slime, and is suddenly twice your size?"

"Well, either way, I won't let anything happen to you."

Chloe grimaced slightly, because her worries were not at all solved by his words. She worried about him, too. More than she was willing to admit. And she didn't even know why she worried so much. Clark did have super powers, and he could run faster than all but one person on this earth. Of all the people to worry about, Clark was the last person her heart should be concerned for.

Yet she was concerned. Very concerned. After hearing Carlos' description of the victim, how could she not be? No one knew what this monster looked like, or where it could show up next. They all had reason to keep one eye open at night.

"I do have something that will cheer you up," Clark said quietly, urging them towards the car again.

Chloe smiled with curiosity. "Do you all winds pick up inanimate objects?"

Clark reached deep inside of his coat pocket, and pulled out a large lock of hair. It was about eight inches in length, dark brown in color, and extremely thick in texture, though it was only as wide as a sewer's needle. Chloe took it from him with her thumb and forefinger, studying it carefully. "Where did you find it?"

"In those bushes across from the crime scene," he said.

"I think I've taught you quite well, Mr. Kent," Chloe replied, her grin beaming with pride. "Taking evidence from a crime scene. Very sneaky."

Clark shrugged. "Taking pictures of a crime scene after a detective told you not to? Very sneaky, as well."

She giggled next to him. "How do you know I did that?"

He took her hand once more and led her towards her VW bug, which was now less than twenty yards away. Her hand inside of his felt unbelievable, and for a split second he wondered how her hand would feel as it graced across his naked body. He dreamt of the scenario often enough - the minutes just after their lovemaking. The room would be moist with their desire, and he would listen as their hearts continued to beat as one. Her breath would linger on his cheek a mere whisper of air, but enough to give him goose bumps. The rain outside would pitter-patter against the windows and roof. And her hand would drop across his body, and follow the line of his chest, from his neck down to his abdomen. Then further down to his cock, stroking him, and her words in his ear a rhythm of _'love you'_ and _'fill me again'._

"Clark?"

Clark blinked a few times and realized they were back at the car - and not in her apartment making passionate love. A long sigh escaped his throat, and he glanced in her direction. Only her bewildered look matched his confused gaze.

"Earth to Clark? Listening to a frequency only super-powered Kryptonians can hear??"

Aware of his embarrassing daydream, he smiled sheepishly. "No," he said after a moment. "Just thinking."

"Ah," Chloe said, amused. "Well, I asked you how you knew I took the pictures."

Clark walked over to the passenger side of the car, just as Chloe proceeded to the driver's side. He pointed to his right ear with a little, knowing grin. "I heard it click."

Chloe nodded, as if she should have known, and dug into her purse for her car keys.

"Where to next?" he asked. He heard the beep from the unlock mechanism, opened his door, and climbed inside.

She did the same, and as she placed the key in the ignition and turned the engine over, she replied, "Well, we need to take the lock of hair to the crime lab. I have a source I trust there."

Clark nodded and settled back into his seat. It was best they didn't give the lock of hair to the police, only because he was sure they would never get a straight answer as to it's origins. More than likely, the murderer of these women was not completely human, whether physically or mentally. Clark wondered if the killer was ever admitted to a mental institution, and decided to give the idea a look when they returned to the Planet.

"But first," Chloe said, interrupting his thoughts.

He gazed up at her, anxious to hear what she had to say.

"I want to know which super model you were thinking about before, because she gave you quite the hard-on," she mused, gesturing to his groin.

Clark glanced down immediately to his waistline, and blushed profusely when he saw the large tent in his jeans. As he daydreamed about Chloe just minutes ago, he had no idea the thoughts were having this kind of effect on him. Of course, his morning relief in the shower should have given him some clue that he was highly tuned to Chloe today. No wonder she looked at him as if he had two heads. _And actually, I was only thinking with one of them, _he thought, blushing ever deeper.

_If you only knew, Chloe ... I was thinking about the very best. _

**000000000000000000**

**to be continued ...**


	5. Confidential

**there's a little Chimmy in this one. Just to warn everyone. But I wanted to add some realism to the situations. Chimmy is an issue here, as it is in the show currently. **

**00000000000000000000**

**Episode Five: Confidential**

**00000000000000000**

The Daily Planet looked glorious in the mid afternoon sunlight as it began its slow drift behind the tall building. Chloe parked her VW bug a few blocks away from the entrance to the famous paper, so it took an extra few minutes to get back to her home away from home. After they left the crime scene a few hours ago, Chloe took Clark to the crime lab on the east side of Metropolis. From previous cases, Chloe used a specific forensic investigator she trusted to give her real answers to evidence. For someone so used to investigating the paranormal, sugarcoated explanations didn't help her one bit. Chloe needed to know everything, no matter how grotesque or abnormal it might be.

Luckily the investigator she knew there had no trouble breaking protocol for her, and always told her everything he discovered. Of course, it helped to have a small past with the young criminologist. Chloe met him while she spent her summer writing her column for the Planet back in high school. She did a lot of soul searching during that summer - a search that led her immediately into Jimmy's arms, where she promptly lost her virginity. However, after an argument with him one night, Chloe quickly searched for comfort in the lights and drum machines of a local dance club. She met Jeremy there within the first ten minutes, and eagerly followed him to his car at the end of the night.

Within a half hour they were back at his studio apartment, kissing frantically while they removed each other's clothes. She wanted to forget about the men she was in love with - Jimmy and Clark - and concentrate only on losing herself in someone else completely. For no other reason than to feel pleasure over the heartache, to feel wanted and cherished. It didn't take long to relieve her melancholy in the touch of another man, and soon Jeremy was deep inside of her, her whines of pleasure mere echoes off his bare, white walls. Her thoughts centered only, surprisingly, on Clark as she climaxed.

Chloe remembered the night vividly, and remembered it as the first time she truly lost control. Though, by the end, while he emptied deep inside of her, she knew it was not what she was looking for. And she feared then that her only solution resided in a cute, raven-haired farm boy currently going absolutely mad on red kryptonite just a city block away.

When she arrived at the crime lab with Clark at her elbow just a few hours ago, Jeremy gave her a curious look of suspicion. She smiled and handed him the lock of hair, and he eagerly took the interesting piece of evidence. Though, she could tell by his wayward glance that his sexual interest in her had not changed, wishing their short relationship had not ended so abruptly during that summer. After they had sex the second time that night, he begged her to stay with him and break up with her boyfriend. Her silence while in his arms told him everything, though the source of her silence had more to do with her Smallville crush than the intern photographer at the Planet.

Since then her visits to his lab were always a little awkward, though she tried to downplay the tension with her usual sarcasm. Over the course of the past year, much of the tension had gone, only to be replaced by his glances of lasting desire. Mostly, he seemed to be over her, but he still ogled her from afar with a sexual flare. Every now and then his looks of desire would shine with feelings, and today, because of Clark, he seemed to let those feelings glow within the corners of his eyes. She tried to ignore it, mainly because she had no wish to show Clark even a hint of her past failures. She let Jeremy have her that night because she was hurting, and Clark didn't need to see the evidence of her mistakes.

After Chloe and Clark left the lab, they traveled to the Metropolis downtown library to do a little research. They searched through records of admissions to local mental institutions, and started to make a list of the similarities between the two cases at a much more meticulous scale. Both victims worked for the planet: one in the accounting department and the other in the classifieds. Both were young, and both were married. Clark noted in Erika's file that she had blonde hair, the same as Julia. Though initially meaningless, Clark pegged it as a similarity to keep in mind. If the murderer was at all human, it's likely he or she followed ritual, and purposefully chose certain types of people to kill next.

At the moment, blonde, Daily Planet employee women seem to have the largest targets on their backs. Which, of course, forced Clark to insist he stay in Chloe's apartment until the investigation was over. Chloe told him she would be fine, and promised to shout for him if she needed help. In the meantime, she did have Jimmy, and though he didn't stay over at her apartment as often as he would like, the dangers in the case would give him a reason to, at the very least, crash on her couch.

Though, Chloe was sure they would end up back in bed together eventually - but she decided not to tell Clark that.

By three o'clock, both decided it was best to call it a day. Neither wanted to leave so soon, but the bonfire was that night. And though Clark could make it back in Smallville in less than ten minutes, Chloe, with Jimmy at her side, would have to drive the full three hours to get home. However, Clark didn't leave without giving her a kiss on the cheek, and insisting she call him if anything went wrong. Obviously, even though the role of her personal protector belonged to Jimmy right now, Clark was sure not going to give up his reign so easily.

And at the moment, despite her relationship with Jimmy, she felt safer knowing Clark was so concerned for her well-being. Having a personal super hero certainly had its advantages at times like these.

Currently she walked slowly to the elevators lined on the back wall of the lobby, anxious to get back to her desk. The lobby was still very busy with reporters and TV networks camped out, waiting for the latest news on Julie Thompson's death. Gratefully, they had no idea that she was so involved with the case. If they did, they were sure to stop her and ask her a dozen questions about what she discovered during her travels today. And honestly, she would have nothing new to tell them, other than the murderer could be half human, half animal - and that was just a hunch of her own that carried no evidential basis.

Chloe rode the elevator down to the basement, and stepped out into a rather busy newsroom floor. For being the most un-newsworthy section of the paper, the office looked extremely chaotic for a Friday afternoon. She walked through the glass doors and into the main center of the basement, and the chaos only strengthened in intensity the closer she came to the floor's nucleus. She glanced to her boss' door, but saw it closed and locked, he having apparently left for the day. Steps by her co-workers computers revealed the paper's complete obsession with Julie's death. The hotshot reporters upstairs obviously had everyone doing research to give them just the slightest edge. Anything, any piece of news or information, could be the breakthrough both the police and the media were looking for.

As she approached her desk, she half expected to find Jimmy waiting for her return. Part of her really wanted to see him, because she did miss him when they weren't together. Yet her heart still burned with frustration from her discovery – _your boy from the Planet was here last night with those hotshot reporters. _And though she loved Jimmy, Chloe realized why she wanted Clark as her partner rather than him. Clark would never do that to her. They had too much respect and trust between each other to keep secrets anymore.

The chair to her desk never looked so inviting than right at this moment, just minutes after a day's worth of legwork. Chloe walked up to it and plopped down heavily in its cushion seat. Her shoulders ached due to her lack of sleep form the night before, and her legs burned from the extensive travel she and Clark embarked on today. Despite her exhaustion, however, she was actually excited for the bonfire tonight. If anything, she truly needed a few hours of relaxation. And though she was a bit infuriated with Jimmy for keeping information from her, she still longed to sit leisurely in his warm arms in front of a roaring bonfire. Nothing would give her more contentment than that.

Chloe yawned slightly, attesting to her need for sleep. Her tired eyes gazed to her computer screen, and watched the Daily Planet Globe dance around proudly on her screen saver. She promptly nudged the mouse to make the picture disappear, revealing her desktop full of icons and a wallpaper picture of a sunset over a crystalline lake. Usually she didn't enjoy landscape themes on her computer, but this one caught her eye. Random, nostalgic images from her past tended to fill her brain every time she took a moment to stare at the lake in the picture, recalling sunsets shared on an old worn couch in a smelly barn loft back home.

_Enough daydreaming, _she mused, clicking into the Daily Planet's search engine. She decided to do a little more hacking of her own, and worked her way into the Metropolis Police Department case records. Since many of the lines on the hard copies of the reports for the murders were either blacked out with a Sharpie or missing completely, Chloe decided to search for the original versions to fill in the gaps. She was uncertain if the search would produce anything worth knowing, yet the curiosity alone was enough to make her look anyway. Mostly, however, she knew anything valuable to the solution of the case would have to come from her own careful investigation.

In little time, Chloe found a few records from months ago with 'Erika Lawson' atop the case description. She clicked inside and discovered affidavits from police officers, as well as from names of apparent witnesses she didn't know. However, she jotted each name down on a separate piece of paper and stuck them snugly in the front pocket of her purse. Then she made a second copy of the names, looked around the office to ensure no one was looking, and placed them inside her bra until she saw Clark later in the evening. It was better to be safe than sorry, and better yet if each of them had a copy.

Chloe, however, continued to search, because she still didn't come across the official reports written by the leading investigators. A highlighted title on the right side of the page called '_Paperwork' _held enough promise to make her click for more. However, the small hourglass appeared and twirled, telling her it would be a moment before she would see anything. _High speed Internet? Yeah, right ... I could have broken into the hard copy file room at the Police Department and been back at the Planet faster than this dreaded wait, _she grimaced silently. Though, the idea of breaking into the police department was not lost on the list of possible avenues to travel. She and Clark had broken into many places before with no problem.

Just as she began to run through battle plans of achieving entry into a heavily guarded police department, Chloe noticed a small envelope nestled underneath her desktop calendar. Having not seen it until now, the tiny, pure white envelope captivated her by its initial ambiguity. With caution, Chloe looked all around the office for a clue to the author, and wondered if Jimmy caught wind of her current mood towards him. Romantic gestures often held secret meanings, such as apologies or the dire need to see someone naked after work. Chloe, rightfully so, had received both types of messages from Jimmy in the past, and given her frustration, she had a feeling the note was filled to the brim with _'I'm sorry's' _and _'I love you's', _with a touch of _"I want to have sex with you" _on the side.

With a tiny grin, she opened the flap of the envelope, and revealed the small card inside. But what she read was not at all what she expected:

_Dear Ms. Sullivan, _

_To my sweet love,  
__You are my everything,  
__The breath to my lungs, and the sight to my eyes_

_I relish in your beauty from afar  
__And wait relentlessly for lover's sweet touch  
__I hunger for your heart,  
__Crave the taste of your skin on my lips_

_At your desk, you never see me  
__But I always see you_

_Your Secret Admirer_

Chloe's grin faded as she read the words over and over again. _Secret Admirer? Was Jimmy playing some kind of game? _Jimmy was the romantic type, but never like this. A poem wasn't really his style. He liked to send her flowers when he goofed up, or chocolate when he wanted something special. Jimmy did like to send personal notes, but they were never in a poem format - nor did they carry the weight of a writer's touch. Though he was an extraordinary photographer, he could hardly put two sentences together long enough to write an essay for college, let alone a poem for his girlfriend.

Suddenly the page on her computer screen disappeared. She glanced up from the note the moment the page flashed anew, and watched as the contents quickly downloaded. The names from the previous page appeared once more, but this time there was a tiny square icon next to each of them. More information appeared both to the left and right of the page, containing links to the location of each name, as well as a detailed description of the role each person played. Towards the bottom sat a tiny search engine, and the ability to cross-reference every name investigated during the case. Apparently, by the implication of the cross-reference, the names given in the middle were merely the most important.

When she began to click onto the icons next to each name, a new page of that witness appeared, with a picture, the affidavit, and personal information, such as height, weight, and where they lived. A new sense of caution filled her veins, and Chloe gazed from left to right around the office to ensure no one saw how far she had traveled into restricted territory. She needed to tread lightly and quickly, and rather than try to print each affidavit off right now, unnecessarily attracting attention, Chloe sent each page to her email. Jimmy had agreed to stay the entire weekend in Smallville to celebrate the festival, giving her an excuse to wait until she was safe in her hometown before she opened the files. The Kent Farm would be the perfect haven to investigate this deeper, and with no worries of the wrong person discovering her tracks.

However, despite her rising excitement for this newfound information, her eyes could not help but gaze down at the note still nestled tightly in her hand. She mulled over telling Jimmy that she received it at all. If he didn't send it, then he would probably be jealous. He was jealous every time Clark came to visit her at the Planet, no matter how many times she reassured him of her commitment and love for their relationship. A love note would probably push him over the edge, and rightfully so. The author of the love note was certainly treading on Jimmy's marked territory.

Yet the note could also be nothing. It could just be some lonely guy who really did have a crush on her, and truly wanted the chance to tell her how he felt. The guy could be harmless, and without a second's delay, Chloe could already envision such an awkward conversation if they ever met - _"Sorry ... I'm touched, but I'm already seeing a great guy ..."._

_And then again_, she thought, _it could very well be Jimmy _- _the new Jimmy who started taking poetry-writing classes in his free time and decided to surprise me with his work_. Maybe he really did want to take their romance to the next step. Rather than hound her every day for sex, perhaps he decided to try to woo her into bed. Possibly ... and actually, the very idea made her smile with suppressed need. She would enjoy that scenario immensely.

Naturally, her heart's desire for a stronger, more intimate relationship with Jimmy tried desperately to convince her of his involvement, no matter how certain she was of his usual, romantic ignorance in terms of poetry.

Of course, it may not be any of the two above. Dread suddenly filtered into her heart, and she studied the words in the note one more time. _'I hunger for your heart - Crave the taste of your skin on my lips'. _She swallowed nervously, letting the words settle in her mind. Though she never remembered Julie mention anything about a stalker before she was killed, Chloe did believe the killer probably followed her for quite some time. It was too much of a coincidence that the two victims were both women, blonde, and worked for the Daily Planet, as she and Clark devised earlier. Only humans could be that selective, and there was no telling what other similarities she and Clark might find. And though Chloe thought Clark's concern for her before was unwarranted, perhaps he truly did have reason to worry.

_At your desk, you never see me / But I always see you_

Has he been watching her all along? Just like he did with Erika, and Julie? Did he stalk them for a few months, wait until the right moment, then pounce? Did he send them notes?

Was it actually a _him _at all?

"Hey," Jimmy bellowed happily behind her.

Chloe quickly stuffed the note underneath her desk calendar the second she heard his voice. Regardless, there was no reason to say anything to Jimmy until she knew more. Certainly, the note could be from him, and if so she would let him say something first. Until then, if the note wasn't from him, it was best to keep him in the dark for now. He was already worried because she was even involved in the investigation at all - no need to intensify it. The note would only make him angry.

_Not to mention Clark_, she suddenly thought to herself. She had nearly forgotten about him_. I can't tell him, either. His reaction would be worse than Jimmy's. He'd chain me in his room until he found the killer himself._

"Hey," she whispered. She hastily clicked out of the Metropolis Police Department website, suddenly uncertain if she wanted Jimmy to know what she has done so far today. Though she loved Jimmy, she feared he would squeal to his reporter friends upstairs if she told him something exclusive - like the discovery of the hair follicle in the brush next to the road. No telling where his loyalties were these days, especially when he didn't even tell her of his involvement in the case.

Jimmy smirked behind her and set his hands on her shoulders. "So how was your day?" he asked.

Chloe shrugged. "Okay," she replied.

He started to slightly massage her shoulders, the way she enjoyed. He may not be able to write poetry, but he had the best hands to knead out the knots in her muscles. Already she felt the day's stress ease out of her body with only thirty seconds of his pleasurable rub down. Whenever she cooked dinner for him at her apartment, he always insisted on ending their night with a massage. Obviously, he hoped the massage led to other fun activities, and Chloe did give into him a few times. Though they haven't had sex in more than three months, they often made out endlessly on her gray, puffy couch her father bought for her new apartment. Sometimes their make-outs led to slightly more than leisurely kisses and groping in the dark, but Chloe always ensured it never went all the way.

_Not since that last time ... and not again until I feel truly ready. _

"No killer yet?" he asked with a smile, pushing his fingers into her shoulder.

"Nope."

He moved his hands down to her back, and pleasantly pressed his knuckles in the middle of her shoulder blades. No matter her issues with him right now, she still released a small sigh, hid only by his voice. "I'm sure you'll find him. You always do."

Chloe then spun her chair around slowly to look at him, anxious to go head on with her recent discovery. His boyish ignorance could only get him so far with her. "But I was let in on a secret today."

Jimmy stared at her hard, and she could tell he was desperately trying to decipher her mood. By the cross of her left leg over her right, and the purse of her lips, he had to know she was less than happy. She rarely became angry with him, but when she did, he knew it. In the few arguments they've had, two have primarily been his fault. And in both cases, he tended to turn timid and wary, unsure if he should just run rather than face Chloe's wrath.

He swallowed hard and absently scratched the back of his head. "Secret? What kind of secret?"

She huffed slightly. "Did you really think I wouldn't find out?"

"About what?"

"About your little field trip to Julie's crime scene last night?"

Immediately Jimmy glanced away, his face drawn with obvious guilt. "So you know about that?"

Chloe sighed deeply. She glanced down to her hands folded in her lap, wondering upon the intensity of her anger. The love note beamed with an invisible force from underneath the desk calendar, and she could almost feel it's power seep through her skin. Jimmy would have reason to be upset with her if he discovered her secret, and rather than lash out at him, she lowered the level of her frustration. Because of her own secret, she had no legitimacy to let her anger get out of control - and over something basically minute.

So she spoke calmly. "Why didn't you just tell me about it this morning?"

Jimmy walked closer to her. "I knew you'd be angry. They called me late last night to help out. The normal photographer is gone on assignment, and they decided to ask me to come along."

Chloe nodded with understanding, though her heart still ached with hurt. She shouldn't feel betrayed, but the feeling lingered in her chest like a black plague anyway. Again the thought of Clark came to mind - _he would have told me. In fact, knowing my love for journalism, and my friendship with Julie, he would have taken me to the crime scene himself._

But Jimmy didn't have super powers that could kick in at a moment's notice if something went wrong.

"I'm sorry," he said. He bent down to a crouched positioned in front of her, and slid his hands casually up her thigh, into her lap. He smiled sweetly, though the regret could be heard in his voice, and seen in his eyes. "You're right. I should have told you. But I also knew it would have hurt you to know how Julie died. I guess ... I guess I just wanted to protect you."

Chloe placed her hands on top of his, and rubbed each of her thumbs along his rough knuckles. He wasn't nearly as strong as Clark, but he tried to be. And with the touch of his warm skin, Chloe realized she had no right to berate him for something like this. The hurt began to fade as his words settled in her heart - _I just wanted to protect you. _And though she didn't need the protection, she loved him for trying. Like a knight in shining armor, Jimmy wanted to rescue his damsel in distress.

Caressing his cheek, she murmured, "You don't have to. I'm going to face a thousand murderers over the course of my journalistic career, all bent on making my life a living hell because I helped put them in prison. Loving danger is in the job specifications for every reporter."

"I like danger," Jimmy defended lightly, his smile giving him away. "I do ... I love danger. I love the adrenaline rush, and I love hiding in broom closets with beautiful, blonde, sarcastic reporters."

Chloe smiled wide when she remembered the latter. Almost two months ago she broke into the Metropolis Memorial Hospital for patient files on a few meteor freaks making noise in the city. Having no other quick way to break-in because Clark wasn't answering his cell phone, she dragged Jimmy along to help with the candy-stripe act. After they stole the correct garments to substantiate their story, Chloe picked the lock to the psych ward file room. However, a rather smart nurse caught on to their little charade before she could retrieve everything they needed, and after they used basic diversion tactics to force the security guards off their trail, they ended up hiding in a broom closet next to the stairwell to wait out the red alert. While in the closed space, neither could help giving into a kiss here, a kiss there.

Soon the casual kisses weren't enough. Hands found their way up shirts and down pants, and before long they were taking full advantage of their locked-in time together. Turned on by the possibility of being caught, Chloe couldn't resist the temptation. She dropped to her knees in front of him, opened the fly to his white pants, and went down on him.

In a hospital broom closet, she administered her first, and only, blowjob. And little did she know at the time it was Jimmy's first one, as well.

"I'm sure you do," she whispered. Her cheeks turned red with embarrassment as she let the images of the experience fade from her mind.

Jimmy ran his hands up and down her thighs. "But this case is different. This isn't just the garden -variety murderer. This person is a maniac, and has no qualms about killing someone in the most gruesome way. And Daily Planet employees have to be extra careful. Especially those so close to the case."

Chloe stood and Jimmy eagerly followed, pulling her into his arms. "Well, don't let the extra number of walking zombies, mummies, and warlocks scare you. I know it's close to the Halloween holiday, and everyone is on high alert because they might suddenly find themselves in the middle of a Wes Craven flick ... but both you and Clark are worried for nothing. I've been doing this since I wrote my first expose on teacher favoritism in second grade. I'm not afraid to anger people, and I'm not afraid to lift the veil on forbidden subjects."

"Oh, I know."

She pushed him away from her lightly. "This conversation has been ongoing since my close call with Landon Covington, the East Side murderer who tried to sauté me on his meteor rock barbecue pit. Unless you want to be late for the bonfire, I suggest we continue this debate in the car."

Jimmy shook his head. "You wonder why I worry."

Chloe turned to her desk and started to pack loose papers into her drawers. She hated leaving her desk messy when she went away for the weekend. Anyone could walk by and take something, or venture through her desk for classified information. Or what _she_ deemed classified, anyway. "With Clark working next to me this time, I am far more safer than you think," she reassured, glancing up from her desk to look at him.

He walked up closer to her, arms folded. "And that's really supposed to make me feel better?" he asked sourly, drifting his eyes down to her cleavage. Every time she wore her business attire, he could always catch just a glimpse of her breasts. Of course, they were mostly covered, if not by her blouse, then by whatever color bra she chose to wear that particular day. Today the bra appeared to be a light shade of blue, and he could barely keep his eyes away from the small window created by the merge of her blouse and blazer forming a V in the middle of her chest. When she bent down just right, the window to her beautiful breasts appeared, and just for him.

She packed the Erika Lawson and Julie Thompson case files safely into her briefcase. "It should. Once you stop pulling out your six-shooter and sheriff's badge every time you see him, you'll find Clark is a great guy, and watches my back better than anyone. He is my best friend, after all."

Jimmy touched her arm lightly. "I thought I was your best friend?" he asked, with just a hint of mock concern.

Chloe smiled softly. "You know what I mean."

"Right, of course."

Once everything was packed neatly away in her desk, Chloe shut her computer off completely. The fan inside whined softly in protest, then twirled gently into silence. Office commotion suddenly became a bit louder with her desk accessories shut down for the weekend. Conversations from across the room traveled on the current of the soft, office air, drifting into their area loud and clear. Aware that now everyone could hear them easier, Chloe grabbed his arm gently and tugged him towards the door, deciding it was best to discuss this more once they were outside.

He snatched her briefcase from her right arm, insisting to carry it for her as they traveled to her car.

"Just try to make nice with him. Please?"

Jimmy nodded, hearing the pleading tone in her voice. He really wanted to like Clark. He really did. But oddly, he always felt like he was on the offensive every time Clark entered the picture. As if, because of Clark and Chloe's history, he had to defend his position as Chloe's boyfriend. And Clark didn't seem to feel challenged by Jimmy because he was going out with his best friend. Rather, Clark's hostility carried a flavor of jealousy that a man would feel if he felt his relationship with his woman was being threatened by an unwelcome third party. Rightfully so, it made Jimmy wonder what actually happened between Clark and Chloe in the past to warrant such an antagonistic response to his presence.

"I will. I'll try," Jimmy whispered. "But I don't think he likes me very much."

Chloe grabbed her coat from the rack next to the exit. "Clark's just naturally paranoid. I'm sure he questioned Kermit the Frog's agenda on first meeting, as well."

"You think this is so funny," Jimmy said, hardly amused. He helped her slip her fall, orange jacket on, then nudged her towards the stairs to the main floor.

She shrugged. "I find any two men having a pissing contest to be funny."

"I just want to be accepted by your friends. And so far, Lana is the only one who talks to me at length."

"Well," Chloe said, taking his hand as they walked up the stairs. "This weekend is your chance to get to know them better."

Jimmy rubbed a hand over his eyes, realizing the weekend to come would be long. Very long. With Clark Kent watching his every move, and with a madman still on the loose, he had a feeling it would be a Fall Festival for the ages. And for the first time in his entire life, he couldn't wait for the dawn of Monday morning.

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to be continued


	6. Encounter

**Episode Six: Encounter**

**0000000000000000000000000000**

Smallville residents loved the fall season. Along with the change of leaves from crisp green to colorful shades of red, orange, and yellow, the town also enjoyed their annual festivities. This weekend was, of course, the Fall Festival - a chance for all residents to enjoy the colors of the season, and celebrate the holiday to come. Vendors had set their tables up on every street, close together so participants couldn't go ten feet without seeing a new display of crafts, woodworking, and other commodities. Tonight, however, the vendor tables were covered over with white sheets, all under large, white tents to protect the merchandise from the weather while everyone in Smallville attended the annual bonfire to kick off the weekend.

The bonfire took place just outside of the city limits, in a field cleared especially for this night. Not just one, but also many bonfires were aflame across the vast empty field, with tables of good food and drink scattered at each hot spot. People sat on benches, picnic tables, and specially crafted tree stumps around the large, roaring bonfires, content to enjoy the good company of their fellow town residents. Gratefully, the night had remained crisp and clear, giving the stars room to shine brightly above them. Some people actually brought food to cook on small barbecue grills, while others settled with flaming marshmallows on wooden sticks. Quite a few participants brought Hershey candy bars and graham crackers to add to the marshmallows. Almost everyone shared his or her snacks with others, determined to ensure everyone enjoyed such a wonderful, quiet night in the country.

Mrs. Hannigan, the owner of Hannigan's Bakery, offered Clark her ingredients for smores. He graciously denied her offer, having no appetite for anything remotely festival-like this year. He was content to just stand next to the drink counter and gulp down as many glasses of fresh, homemade apple cider as he could. Because though he wanted nothing to do with the festival other than his mandatory attendance, consuming as much apple cider as possible was always his tradition. The stuff was just too damn good to pass by - especially when his mother made it.

Before him, wood in the bonfire crackled and popped under the pressure of the flames. With a large sigh, Clark sniffed in the wonderful aroma of burning wood on a crisp, October night. Nothing in this world was even close to the smell, and it made him feel like he should be on a hunting trip in the woods. Better yet, the smell made him believe he was camping next to a large lake further up north, with only a small tent, his Outback SUV, and a warm Chloe Sullivan in his arms. A tiny smile crept across his lips when he imagined spending nights with Chloe in a tent, just the two of them. By the end of their trip, he had a feeling thoughts of Jimmy would be long gone.

Clark nudged closer to the drink table and grasped another full paper cup of apple cider. He downed it one gulp, then through the cup into the trashcan underneath the table. He had no recollection of how many glasses of apple cider he has drunk so far, though he's made a trip deep into the woods on several occasions to relieve himself. Of course, the apple cider on this night was much more than just a tradition. It was also his tonic for what he had been watching all night long.

Through the raging orange and red flames, he stared helplessly at Chloe and Jimmy. They sat quietly on a bench about fifteen feet away. From this perch, through the flames and the commotion of people, Clark obsessed over the two of them, letting his heart fall into pools of sadness and regret. Jimmy sat comfortably on a bench, like a cowboy saddled on a horse, with a leg hung over each side. Chloe was facing away from him, settled in between his legs, and nestled comfortably in his arms. A large blanket hung over Jimmy's shoulders, but also encompassed Chloe in its warmth. Every now and then she would giggle or laugh at something he said. Jimmy's mouth was so close to her ear, whispering words of love that no one else could hear.

Except for him.

_"I love you, Ms. Sullivan ... _

Smile from his beloved friend.

_"You're so sexy ... _

Giggle.

_"I want to kiss every inch of your body ... " _

Seductive smile.

_"You're so gorgeous ... I can't wait to make passionate love to you ... "_

Clark watched them, unable to turn away despite the nausea in his stomach. He grimaced when he saw her giggle and smile once more. Her arms underneath the blanket lingered over those encircling her, and she gave him a small kiss on the cheek. Jimmy smirked and nuzzled her neck gently, baby kissing her skin until her eyes finally closed in surrender. Good thing for the crowd, because Clark didn't know if anything else would have stopped them from making love right there on the bench. His chest tightened immensely when he saw Jimmy's hands flatten on her stomach, his actions only hidden by the blanket and the cover of her arms. Those slick hands moved up underneath her blouse, and Clark finally had to look away before he witnessed something detrimental to his sanity.

"Bird-watching again?" Lois asked next to him.

He turned to her shamefully; surprised he didn't hear her approach. "Hey ... didn't think you liked stuff like this."

Lois smirked. "That's true. Voyeurism and catching those in the act is certainly not one of my personal pastimes."

Clark's cheeks blossomed into ten shades of red. He quickly turned to the drink table and grabbed another paper cup of cider. "I meant the festival," he whispered, completely embarrassed. Because she was right - he was staring. No, more like stalking over something that wasn't his.

"I knew what you meant," Lois replied, amused. "You're right, I usually don't enjoy lame festivals in midwestern towns. But Chloe insisted I come."

Clark nodded and sipped his cider. The juice felt wonderful on his tongue, and reminded him why he, on the other hand, usually enjoyed these festivals. Of course, watching the woman he felt should be in his arms in the arms of another man could stifle anyone's Halloween spirit. He sighed again and caught a glimpse of a jack-o-lantern carved with slanted, angry eyes and a toothy smile. Would it be distasteful to throw it at Jimmy's head to make a statement?

"I see you're obsessing over the neck nuzzler again," Lois observed.

"No," Clark said sadly. "It's the one he's nuzzling."

Lois nodded knowingly. "Well, you know, I think it's time you let the horse out of the barn."

Clark furrowed his brow. "I thought you wanted me to wait until the relationship was over?"

"Apparently, by Jimmy's hands fondling her breasts, I figure it might be longer than I thought."

"Please, don't say _'fondling'..."_

Lois laughed. "The point is, if the relationship has lasted this long, then there's no telling if it'll die at all."

Clark gazed back to Jimmy and Chloe, still nestled comfortably in each other's arms. _"Oh, Chloe ... I can't wait to take you home, and f-."_

"What should I do? Just tell her?" he asked with disbelief. "I'm so afraid she's going to reject me. Then my chance with her might never come. I might scare her away for good."

Lois shrugged nonchalantly. "Fine, don't tell her. You can sit twenty feet away and watch Jimmy grope her for the rest of your life. Makes no never mind to me."

Clark huffed lightly, though his eyes continued to stare through the lapping flames, at the pair who never once looked his way. More specifically, the small blonde he would die for in a second. He could hear Chloe humming softly in delight at Jimmy's words, his hands, and a heavy weight of need tore through Clark's soul. He wanted Chloe. He wanted her so badly. More than anything else in his life. And he cursed himself for waiting this long. It was his own fault, really. He rejected her for years, so the rightful payment of his ignorance was front row seats to the Jimmy and Chloe sex show.

He made his bed years ago. And now here he was, all alone, wishing Chloe was actually in his bed with him instead.

"You are still coming to my costume party, right?" she asked him, walking in front of him to tear his attention away from the lovebirds. "I'm inviting Chloe and Jimmy, but I don't want you to bury yourself in your loft the entire night because of a broken heart. It'll be good for you to come."

Clark downed the rest of his cider, then shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know."

"The party would be your perfect chance, you know," Lois pressed, nudging his arm with her elbow. "Come dressed as a super-hero - like Hercules, or something. You've got the muscles. Use them ... woo her with your natural heroism facade. Make it so she can't look away."

Clark cowered a little, though the thought had entered his mind before. Actually, the idea was more like a breaking and entering deal into her apartment. He would come to her in the middle of the night, wake her, then rip off his clothes to show her what she was missing. Of course, he usually beamed red the moment he let his fantasies run wild, thinking himself a jerk to have so much confidence in his outward appearance. He really never did think highly of himself on a physical scale, though the intense stares from the opposite sex reassured him he was doing something right. Chloe being no exception – she's ogled him a lot in the past.

Regardless, he felt the need to voice his feelings somehow, someway. And he had to do it soon.

"She'll still be there with Jimmy," he said sadly.

Lois gave him a wide smile. "Clark, have you ever met a girl who didn't change her mind?"

Clark smirked, knowing Lois was right. Chloe, of all women, liked to change her mind often. And really, why not give her the choice? If she rejects him, then at least he could say he tried, no matter how heartbroken he might be afterwards.

"Not to mention," Lois added, moving to the right, giving Clark the view of Jimmy and Chloe together. "She's had a crush on you forever. Do you really think she can turn it off so easily?"

Clark glanced to Chloe hopefully, imagining the ideal outcome of his honesty. On a night just like this, Clark would be on the bench behind her with his strong arms keeping her safe and warm. She would giggle at his breathless words in her ear, and his sweet kisses to her neck. Words of love would tumble from his mouth, from his heart, like a waterfall over a cliff, so natural, so beautiful and certain. Rather than fondle her in front of the entire world to see, Clark would hold her tight and promise his life. Promise his love until his dying day. Promise to be there for her whenever she needed him. Promise to love her with every ounce of his strength, and with every inch of his heart.

And nothing could stop them from running back to the loft or to her apartment in Metropolis where they could be alone. In the dark, wistful shadows of the clear, October night, Clark would make love to her. Remove her clothes with gentleness in his touch, with need in his whisper. Her hands would run along his chest with wonderment and delightful. Their eyes would never leave each other, connected with an electric current of love unlike anything either have seen or felt before. The act of physical love would be so natural, turned on not only by physical attraction, but brought to life by the hunger in their souls, each craving to touch the other in the timeless, magical bliss of eternal love. To be lost in fields of gold forever, cherished both in time and in space.

"Hang in there, tiger," Lois whispered to him, knowing she had lost his attention long ago.

When she walked away, Clark found himself alone once more, with only the window of Chloe and Jimmy to gaze upon. Taking a deep, invigorating breath, Clark started his journey through the people and around the bonfire to reach them. His eyes never left Chloe, captivated by her beauty, by the way the firelight cascaded her skin in orange and red hues. She looked magnificent. Though, to be perfectly fair, she could be in a bathrobe with no make-up, and Clark would ogle her as if she were the most beautiful creature on the planet. Love can do that for a person ... shade their eyes to see what they couldn't before.

On his approach, both turned to look at him. Jimmy nodded in acknowledgement, and Clark did the same in return. Then he let his eyes fall to Chloe, taken completely by her wide grin. He stepped closer to her, drowning in her beauty, and whispered, "Hey."

"Hey, you," she whispered back. It had been awhile, but with Clark's beautiful form standing over her and flames roaring behind him, Chloe's stomach lurched with nervousness and excitement.

Jimmy stood and took Chloe's hand. "Did you need something?" he asked kindly, though suddenly aware of the look in Clark's eyes.

Clark shrugged and let his confidence waver underneath the pressure. He could say it. Right now, he could pull Chloe aside and admit his undying love for her. It would be so easy. So very easy. Yet with Jimmy's presence, all of his determination melted back into his heart, and the fear returned. Jimmy was still her boyfriend, and, from all intense purposes, the two did seem to love each other. And he would just be in the way of Chloe's happiness.

"No, I just wanted to say hi," he said tightly.

Chloe stood up and took the blanket off of Jimmy's shoulders. "Honey, all this bonfire fun has made me thirsty. Can you get us some cider?"

Jimmy glanced to her with hurt in his eyes; aware Chloe was trying to get rid of him. He sighed irritably. "Sure, baby," he promised softly, ensuring Clark saw and heard the threat in his voice. Two men could exchange such un-pleasantries while in the presence of the woman they fought over. However, despite Jimmy's hostility, Clark barely flinched.

In fact, Clark could hardly keep his satisfaction from surfacing. _Ha! She wants to talk to me ... and only me._

Jimmy, however, didn't let the opportunity to show his place in Chloe's life pass by. He leaned over and kissed her slow on the lips, cupping her cheek. After a few seconds, he pressed his forehead to hers, then whispered something in her ear. _"Love you ...". _A tiny blush colored her cheeks in response, and she gripped his hand to return his affection. He smiled wide, then gazed to Clark, giving him a wink. "Catch you two in a few," he said, walking away.

Clark watched him leave, felt his blood boil in frustration. The truth was, he had no place to get in the middle of Jimmy and Chloe. And Jimmy had every right to be jealous, especially if he knew the intensity of Clark's feelings for his girlfriend. If he had any idea what Clark had wanted to do, Jimmy would probably try to hide Chloe from him completely. Take her as far away from him as possible, before Clark had a chance to declare his love.

Chloe reached for his hand. "Clark?"

He smiled and glanced back to her. "Hey, Chlo."

She shook her head wearily. "I see you two are getting along," she chided softly. Clark remained quiet, knowing he had made no attempts to like the younger man. Because of his close friendship with Chloe, he should at least try to befriend her boyfriend, no matter how he might feel about her. Despite the rationality of that conclusion, Clark's heart refused to feel nothing but betrayed by Jimmy. _He took my girl ... my best friend ... my one chance to be happy. _And what angered Clark the most was that Jimmy's intentions were not nearly as pure as his own. _He couldn't give her what I could ... he couldn't love her like I could. _For Jimmy, Chloe was just another girl for him to be with, to add to his list of conquered women. _Just another girl to have sex with ... _

For him, Chloe meant everything.

While he mused silently to himself, Chloe pulled him gently to a secluded area a few feet away where no one could hear their upcoming conversation. Once certain they were effectively distanced from curious onlookers, she reached down inside her green, low-neck sweater.

Out of the corner of his eye, Clark saw Chloe's hand disappear down the top of her sweater, causing him to blush immensely. The sight made him forget what he was thinking, and he stepped closer to her with confused concern. "Chloe ... what are you doing?"

In the next second, she produced a small, folded piece of paper from her bra. She opened his left hand, and placed the neatly folded piece of paper directly into his palm. "This is for you."

"What is it?" he asked cautiously.

Chloe closed his fingers over the piece of paper. "I traveled on the Information Super Highway this afternoon, and took a pit stop at the Metropolis Police Department depot."

Clark smirked. "Only you could do something like that."

"Well, my curiosity helped in this case," she reassured. "What I gave you is the witness and suspect list for the Erika Lawson case, created by our very own Metropolis Blue. I also sent the affidavits I found to my email, so we can view them together tomorrow morning."

He blinked at her in disbelief. "I leave you alone for a few hours, and you always find your way into restricted territory."

"Very restricted, actually. By the firewall layout alone, you would have thought I was breaking into the CIA's file on the JFK assassination."

Clark looked to her curiously, knowing he might regret the question. But he asked anyway. "Okay, I'll bite. Who shot him?"

Chloe giggled. "I could tell you ... "

"But then you'd have to kill me. I get it," he responded quickly, curving his lips into a soft smile. She really did have the face of an angel, no matter the underhanded deeds she might perform regularly as an investigative reporter. Regardless of her methods, her goal was valid, if not honorable. She tried to find the truth in every case, having no thoughts about the consequences the truth might have on her personally. She had a very low threshold for what should be revealed and what should be kept behind closed doors. Luckily for him, Chloe felt that his real identity needed to be safely hidden away from the public eye. Not only for his own safety, but also because she cared for him deeply. Above everything else, she would do everything in her power to keep him efficiently anonymous from the press, and other interested, unethical parties. It was a part of their relationship and their loyalty to each other that he never had to question.

Suddenly he heard a loud screech from deep within the woods. The sound echoed off his eardrums like fingernails on chalkboard, and he immediately covered his ears with his palms in discomfort. The shriek seemed so near, yet he could tell by its strength and intensity that it was more than a mile or so away. He squinted his eyes tight, perching his head towards the direction the sound seemed to be coming from.

"Clark?" Chloe asked next to him, concern lingered upon her face. She reached a hand to his shoulder. "What is it?" By experience, she knew when he heard something that no one else could hear. He became distant, attuned only to that foreign sound alone. He could hear so many different things, but when he felt the sound deserved special attention, then something was terribly wrong. "Clark? Talk to me."

He looked to her with fear in his eyes, and said in a hushed whisper, "Someone's in trouble. In the woods."

Chloe glanced to the bonfire festivities behind them. Most everyone was either chatting with one another, or turned away from them completely. Because she dragged Clark to a rather isolated section of the party, as isolated as she could find, they were set deep in shadows, giving them enough cover to protect their conversation, as well as their actions.

Even better, the shades of darkness could protect something super.

"Then go, Clark," she whispered to him, nudging him towards the woods. She gestured into the darkness beyond. "Go!"

Clark gave the bonfire one more glance, then sped away into the darkness, to the source of the screams. They filtered intensely into the air for seconds at a time, before fading away like a boat out at sea, drifting away slowly into the darkness, into the fog. Because he has fought so many villains in the past, Clark knew it was best to come up on the situation quietly and from a distance. He needed to assess the evil before going in to fight it. The woods whooshed by him quickly, though he abruptly stopped seconds later due to the sound of voices not more than ten feet away.

Hidden and still behind a large oak tree, he used the tree's umbrella of hanging limbs and leaves to shade his trespass on the scene before him.

"Please stop!" a woman cried. She writhed helplessly on the ground, covered completely by a form Clark did not recognize at all.

The dark, black form didn't seem to hear her pleas. Intent on the kill, the being merely lifted an arm to strike, drawn with sharp, long claws. Clark squinted his eyes for a better look, and realized in microseconds what was about to happen. The woman, screaming and crying for help, was about to become the next victim of the anonymous cannibalist, determined to quench it's hunger burning eternally in it's gut.

Wasting not one more second, Clark sped to the form as fast as he could, racing the descent of those sharp blades on the young woman's exposed throat. Everything around him slowed to nothing. The tiny sliver of the moon, barely seen in the dark sky, now bathed in an eerie red and split horizontally down the middle by murky clouds, stood as the only witness to the coming confrontation. Owls atop trees released their nocturnal cry. And Clark could barely decipher through the rush of his run the frightful howl of wolves, giving the moon their nightly salute.

Ahead of him, the being didn't even turn to Clark's approach. Nothing phased it; it's purpose horrifically clear. Clark's heart pounded frantically, certain he would be too late to save the woman from such a painful death. He had to push hard to beat the claws relentless surge, despite the natural speed in his step. Running on instincts, Clark jumped to tackle the mysterious being, and drew his hand in the path between its claws and the woman's neck. So consumed with adrenaline, it took Clark an extra second to gain his bearings once time became normal again.

He blinked once, twice, and realized immediately he was sprawled on the ground. Though he was not alone. The young woman's eyes were wide in shock with his bravery, her face drawn with relief.

"Help me! Please," she begged in a whisper, tugging at her restraints. Only then did Clark realize the being had tied her to the ground with tree limbs, bent and tightened against her wrists just enough to trap her efficiently for it's needs.

Just as he tried to tear the tree limbs away with his mighty strength, Clark saw something foreign running down the side of his palm; _blood_. The adrenaline drained from his system the moment he saw the red substance trickled on his skin, finally allowing him to feel the pain throbbing powerfully through his arm. Those sharp claws he blocked for the young woman had cut him instead, slicing his wrist deep to the bone. His eyes started to cloud over just a bit from the shock, drawn back in his head with searing pain rarely felt by his system. Moreover, his wrist was not the only pain; a familiar ache also bubbled in his stomach.

Sweat beaded on his face, and he shook his head wearily to drive away the fogginess from his brain. The dire importance of the situation surged back through his heart, forcing him to remember the heroic act he still needed to complete. The woman under him continued to writhe, pleading with him to release her as he reeled, both physically and mentally, from the exceptional surges of pain. Careful inspection of his wound showed him how close he came to losing his hand completely, with just one slice of claws from a monster he couldn't see.

Taking a deep breath, Clark started to tug on the tree limb trapping the woman's left hand. But his strength was gone.

"Watch out!" the woman screamed. By his mind's eye alone, Clark ducked just in time to dodge the descent of another powerful pair of claws. The evasive action forced him to the ground on his back, and he scurried to his feet quickly to face his dark, shadowed villain. The moon's small, crescent shape gave him little light to see anything more than it's size, built strong and tall in front of him. He felt like a dwarf next to this thing, and his heart thudded powerfully in his chest, desperately supplying his body with needed oxygen, adrenaline, and blood. And for the first time, he sensed the real fear that he might not survive a confrontation with this horrid beast.

The being then lunged in his direction with an angry roar, and Clark had just enough super speed left to jerk out of the way, though the claws caught the threads of his jacket, ripping the right sleeve completely off his shoulder. Despite the clear miss of his skin, the monster didn't give up. It lunged at him again from behind, determined not to give Clark efficient time to gather his senses for an attack of his own. Clark could only turn and try to defend himself, forced to use the rush of footsteps through the grass around him as his only compass to the beast's location in the darkness. But the attempt and bravery was no use. The powerful claws struck him with no mercy, stabbing him deep in the chest.

Clark screamed in agony, and shuddered at the feel of those claws slicing through his lungs. Breath escaped him immediately, giving him no relief. Blood started to bubble up his throat, and his mind whirled with terror. The beast's attack happened so quickly, yet Clark felt every painful inch of the claws as they tore through him, shredding muscle and bone on their way. Above them the moon cascading the scene in white, and for the first time Clark saw a second's worth of his attacker's face. Its teeth sharpened to a point and shined pure white underneath the moon's soft glow. Yellow, beady eyes stared at him through the darkness, framed by an endless field of dark fur melting to nothingness by the night surrounding them.

Clouds drifted in front of the moon in the next second, and Clark's small window of opportunity to see the face of the killer had vanished. All that remained now was his pain, which washed over him in waves of dreadful, unbearable agony. A growl surfaced from the being's throat, and responsively it's clawed grip inside his chest tightened like a vise on his shattered ribs. Clark screamed again, this time unable to stop stream of tears down his cheeks. It felt like the beast was tearing through him from the inside out, ripping his lungs and heart from his chest like a priest at a sacrificial, demonic service for Satan himself. Clark could only try to pull the beast's claws from his chest with what was left of his dwindling strength.

But the beast hardly noticed. It gripped Clark's chest tighter yet, then lifted him up high, more than a dozen inches off the ground. Black blotches started to cloud the corners of Clark's eyes, and he could barely see the beast smile, or hear it snarl with satisfaction. With the last little bit of his consciousness left, Clark noticed a long river of crimson blood running from his chest, down the beast's long arm. He blinked once, twice before he understood the implications of what was happening. Responsively, his body, skewered by the large arm and the claws tearing through his body, began to writhe helplessly like a speared fish frantic for escape.

Yet nothing could prepare Clark for what the beast had planned next. Heaving him back just a tiny bit, the monster threw him into the darkness, and he was swallowed up immediately by the night. He soared like a thrown bag of garbage, tossed over yards of endless brush, grass, and trees below. Wind whipped by his ears as his body cut through the dark sky, though the sound in his ears stopped abruptly when his back landed into the bottom of a Hickory tree trunk. His body dropped and rolled to the ground, leaving him lying on his stomach in the overgrown brush.

His back groaned with pain, and he vaguely considered the hard toss of his body into the tree trunk might have broken it. Nevertheless, Clark discovered he didn't have the energy to care about his current, physical state. With his face pressed into the ground, and the beast far off in the distance, he found it rather easy to let the world drift from his consciousness. While in so much pain, he welcomed the escape unconsciousness, or even death, might bring him. Because his left arm was nudged underneath his body, the blood pouring from his chest pooled neatly into his hand.

It was the last image his mind comprehended before he finally gave into the slow consuming darkness.

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**_to be continued_**


	7. Signs

**AN:** I hope the last chapter has not driven any of my readers away. Believe me, I am a Chlark fan through and through, and the only reason I have written such heavy Chimmy in this story is because the writers on Smallville have made it un-neccessarily important. I hate the pairing immensely, so you can only imagine how difficult it was for me to write what I have. But realism is important to me.

That said, I would never leave my readers high and dry. I promise. I honestly believe Chloe does have feelings for Jimmy, and those feelings must be overcome by something greater - by something _super_ before she can give up on the first man who has ever truly returned her affection. And as Clark has been told all throughout, the time is coming.

As for when Chloe and Jimmy first hooked up, I was convinced by another Chlark fan that it happened in the summer of her column. But the argument could be made for the summer of her internship, as well, so it doesn't matter to me. I just used the former scenario for this story because it felt right. Because no, the Smallville writers never made it clear.

Once again, thank you all for reading.

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**Episode Seven: Signs**

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The discomfort of bright sunlight directly into his eyes forced Clark to finally blink awake. His senses took an extra few seconds to catch up to his eyesight, which struggled to make sense of his surroundings all on its own. Everything felt so familiar, yet he searched frantically for the reasons why he felt so stiff, and why his entire body groaned with pain. One of his hands went to his eyes to block the sun's powerful rays, a move that elicited a weary moan from his tight lips. Another groan emptied from his lips, this time in reaction to achy tightness in his chest, before he finally started to let the outside world into his head.

Before him, Clark saw the tall windows in the living room of the Kent Farm. Turning his head, he also saw the quiet fireplace, and with it came the wonderful smell of cooking food from the kitchen just beyond. His nostrils flared with excitement, not only for the food, but also with the reality of his current spot –_ he was home! _Safe and sound. Though he had no recollection of how he got here, the method didn't matter to him. On a more careful inspection, he was happy to see the same television he watched the football games with on the weekends, and the pictures of his family hung from the wall. All of it surged through his heart like a melody of complete bliss; almost convincing him the night before was only a dream.

Until he moved again. This time he tried to sit up from his lying position, but his back screamed in protest. Clark blinked a few more times, then looked down over his body to gain a sense of exactly where he was in the living room. Somebody had placed him on the couch, with a blanket over his exhausted form to help him sleep the night. Though, he highly doubted he needed the extra garment to rest well considering the beast had knocked him into unconsciousness the night before. After what he experienced last night, nothing short of a nuclear explosion would have awoken him.

Clark gripped the top of the blanket and glanced underneath. All of his clothes had been removed, save for his blue boxers thankfully covering his most important part. He sighed in contentment, and wondered if his mother found him and took care of him. He could only imagine her face when she found him, covered in buckets of his own blood, torn to shreds by a maniac he couldn't even get a good look at. Just the thought made him groan with pain, and he eagerly looked down at his chest to see his wounds. All were covered efficiently with bandages, blood soaked through a few. Gratefully, the pain from the night before was only a fraction as powerful, and not nearly as intense. His body, thankfully, had begun to heal itself. And just like this chest, his right wrist was wound tight inside a bandage, though his range of movement felt normal. _Amazing, _he thought. _Good thing I didn't lose my hand, right?_

Carefully, he placed his left hand on the back of the couch and tried to lift himself to a sitting position. Once again, his back hummed with pain, and he gritted his teeth in discomfort. But Clark was determined to see the world, and ask if any of his efforts had saved the girl. Did anyone catch the beast after his confrontation? Did anyone get a good look before it escaped?

Questions stormed to form in droves deep in his brain, each begging to be addressed.

But a lovely voice broke his concentration.

"Hey, you," Chloe said quietly from the kitchen.

Clark turned his head to her direction, instinctively tugging his blanket around his midsection just a bit more to hide his almost naked body.

She walked into the living room with a relieved smile, and sat down carefully beside him on the couch. Without another word, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a warm hug. Against his shoulder, she whispered, "We were so worried."

He nodded and let his eyes drift close for a moment, content to just sit in his friend's arms for eternity. Though he wanted to find the beast and stop it, he also could hardly suppress the urge to just give up all his life's pursuits, if only to spend the rest of his days in the arms of his one true love. She pulled back and released him from her grasp before he could convince his heart to perform the latter, though the touch of her graceful hands never left his waist. "What happened?" he asked, with a rather raspy voice.

Chloe smirked. "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?"

Clark shrugged sheepishly. "I don't remember much."

"After you went into the woods, I grabbed Jimmy and Lois to follow," she said slowly. She glided her hands gently up his chest, to the white bandages in the middle and just above his nipples. All the bandages were mainly around his heart, though a few were around his waist and along his back. "We found you almost fifty yards from the woman."

He looked to her with just a shade of hope. "Did she make it?"

Chloe sighed, then shook her head. "No ... the thing had already gotten to her by the time we found her. Made the other victims look like a midnight snack compared to this one."

Clark gazed down to the delicate hands grazing his skin. He watched as she removed the first bandage, revealing underneath just a long mark, about three inches in length, soon to be healed completely within the next hour or so. In amazement, Chloe touched the scar gently with her fingertips, then gazed up into Clark's eyes. "When we found you ... I really didn't think you were going to heal this time," she said softly, her voice laced with sadness. "It took quite a piece of fiction to ensure Lois and Jimmy that you would be okay."

Clark smiled, though the name Jimmy was not something he wanted to hear right now. Regardless, the sensation of Chloe's hands on his chest was enough to make him forget that she was promised to another man. In fact, he prayed the blanket over his crotch would be enough to hide the blossom of his arousal. To keep him from making a real fool of himself, he changed the subject and asked quietly, "Did you stay here all night?"

Chloe looked up at him, then back down to her work. She removed the second bandage carefully, and relaxed when she saw the glisten of his perfect skin underneath. "No," she replied. "Your mother was up all night with you. Once we carried you here, your mother and I insisted Jimmy and Lois go back to her apartment to get some sleep. After we had you settled, your mother wanted me to leave so I could sleep, as well. She wanted me to stay here in one of the bedrooms upstairs, but I knew I couldn't sleep knowing you were practically _mangled_ just a room away. So I went to Lois', and Jimmy and I slept on her couch."

_Just what he wanted to hear._

For a few minutes the two of them just sat together on the couch while Chloe continued to remove his bandages. He could already feel his body knitting itself up from the inside out. The blood from the night before was washed away from his body, and he felt clean and refreshed, though still a little sore. His muscles still burned with fire when he tried to move, both from the stiffness in his joints and his injuries. It would take him a few hours to feel normal again, though he had to be happy he wasn't in a hospital bed hooked up to machines. Any other human would have succumbed to such a dismal fate. But not him.

When Chloe's hands drifted down to his side, he giggled softly. "Ah ... that tickles."

"I didn't know immortal Kryptonian gods were ticklish," she mused, running her fingernails over the same spot again.

He jerked a little, then laughed quietly. "Great ... now you'll be doing that to me all the time."

Chloe's lips curved into a soft smile. "Only when I want something from you, Kent."

The bandage on his right side peeled away easily. Clark struggled to remember when he obtained that injury during the confrontation. Probably when his body slammed into the tree, or something on that order. Much of the night remained a blur for him, and it would take him a few days to decipher the events completely. If he did at all. Memories of his confrontation with the beast flashed through his mind only in a jumble of mixed signals, from pain surging through his chest, to his frantic listen for footsteps in the grass. All of it felt more like a terrible nightmare than reality.

But the scars on his chest were very real. And the memory of the pain was nothing short of living through hell on earth.

"So what did it look like?" Chloe asked him suddenly.

Clark shrugged, and watched regretfully as she removed the last bandage. He expected her hands to leave his chest immediately, but they remained, and her touch tingled through his body like a healing fire. Nothing had ever felt so wonderful.

"I don't remember a lot," he admitted. "He was dark and mysterious. And tall ... definitely tall."

Chloe smiled. "So ... we're looking for a tall, dark, and mysterious man? That should make the search easier."

Clark huffed softly at her sarcasm. Though it irritated him sometimes, he knew he would miss Chloe's offhand remarks if he didn't hear them on a regular basis. At the moment, however, they flustered him, and he insisted, "Well, it was really dark. And it all happened so fast. I remember ... darkness, and fur, and large teeth."

"And whatever it used to carve your chest like a Thanksgiving turkey," Chloe teased darkly, sadly. Her hand glided up to his scars reverently, noting how close she came to losing him. The creature struck him above the heart, just missing the organ by centimeters. Even Clark Kent, super human from Krypton, would struggle to recover from such a fatal stab. When she first came upon him in the woods the wounds looked so deep, his skin shredded like someone tore open his body like a wrapped package. She had never seen him so hurt before, and felt grateful at the time that he wasn't awake to scream in agony. Above all, she didn't think she could have handled that.

"Claws," he whispered with certainly. "Very large claws."

"So it was an animal?"

Clark shrugged. "I don't know for sure. It stood on two legs, moved like a man. All I know is that my powers were weakened tremendously while I tried to fight it."

Chloe drifted her hands to his right wrist, still bandaged tightly from the night before. It had taken quite a few minutes to make this wound stop bleeding. Though the strike to the heart was the most fatal in nature, the slice of his wrist looked the most gruesome. If Clark wasn't Kryptonian, Chloe wasn't sure he would have kept his hand under normal circumstances. But the grace of his Kryptonian heritage saved once more. With caution, she removed the bandage, certain the scar would be much larger than the others on his body. However, when the bandage fell away, his wrist was completely healed.

"Chloe," he whispered, forcing her to look up from his arm. "Can I take you somewhere safe? Maybe Mr. Lane's military base, or something?"

She grimaced. "Are you kidding? There's no way I'm going AWOL now."

"But, Chloe ..."

"Clark," she interrupted quickly, "I found you almost mangled to death in the woods ... this thing needs more than just a tranquilizer dart in the ass to stop it. It's going to take both of us."

Clark sighed irritably. "Chloe, it's too dangerous."

"For both of us now," she corrected softly. "I will not let you face this creature alone. We're a team, remember?" She wrapped his wrist in her hand, felt his strong pulse against her palm. He was alive, by a miracle alone. And she had no wish to take the chance of losing him again. "Whatever this overgrown teddy bear really is, it has obvious ties to kryptonite. And that means I am not leaving your side."

Unfortunately, Clark knew she was right. Despite his bravery, there was no way he could fight this creature by himself. Chloe had to help him, if not just for her attuned investigative tactics, but also for her clear head during a confrontation. If anything, she could help him think of ways to fight the creature without getting too close to it. And if they were lucky, they could find the creature in the daytime, when he didn't have to use his super vision or hearing just to see it. If they could get enough people, they could even attack as a group rather than just a pair.

He placed his other hand over hers. "I can't stand not being able to protect you."

Chloe smiled softly. Then pulled him into another warm hug. She remembered the note from her secret admirer, still burning a hole in her purse a few feet away. If the killer, somehow and someway, sent her the note to catch her in a trap, there was no way Clark could come to her rescue now. At least, not well. Not without seriously risking his own life. The problem was, Chloe knew he would come and help her, despite knowing that his efforts might be his ultimate downfall. That alone convinced her to keep the note safely hidden from Clark.

"Hey," Jimmy called, walking through the kitchen door.

Chloe pulled away from Clark immediately, and turned to gaze at her boyfriend standing at a vigil only a room away. Strangely, she felt guilty for being alone with Clark, though she was merely nursing her best friend back to health. Jimmy knew why she was here, and thought nothing less of her for dedicating time to her friend's recovery. Yet the guilty feeling remained, even when her boyfriend smiled with not a hint of jealousy in his eyes. Last night affected him more than he was willing to let on, and for the first time, Jimmy saw Clark in a totally different light. Clark had bravely faced this killer to save someone he hardly knew, and almost paid dearly for it.

Jimmy couldn't help but respect him. And his fears that Clark was here to take Chloe away from him had vanished, as well.

Standing up, she walked over to him and gave him a nice kiss. Jimmy moaned happily against her mouth, then walked past her and into the living room. In his hand he held a bag of donuts and coffee from the Talon. He bent down to place them on the coffee table in front of the couch. After a moment, he stretched his hand to Clark as an act of truce. "Thought you might be hungry after last night," he offered.

Clark swallowed hard as he looked up to the other man. Jimmy was trying to be nice to him. He was trying to be a nice guy, and he was trying to offer an understanding. Yet nothing could extinguish the feelings Clark had for Chloe, nor his need to be with her at all costs. Even so, for the first time since he's met Jimmy, Clark truly wanted to be nice to him in return. Oddly enough, Jimmy helped bring him home last night, and despite Clark's pang of jealousy, he also felt grateful for the aide. And for just a few days, with a wild murderer on the loose, Clark figured he could try to be Jimmy's friend. The hostility Jimmy felt towards him was gone completely now, and Clark had trouble relinquishing his anger for the other man without having it in return. It just didn't exist anymore.

So with a warm smile, Clark shook Jimmy's hand.

"You look much better than the car wreck last night," Jimmy joked lightly, slapping him lightly on the shoulder.

Clark nodded, amused. "Thanks."

Chloe emerged from behind Jimmy, rubbing an affectionate hand down her boyfriend's back. "You're such a sweetheart," she said, smiling at him.

He leaned over and kissed her again, this time just a tad longer than the kiss on his entry. _About a half second more ... but who's counting? _Clark asked silently, deciding to open the bag of donuts to distance his mind from the kiss. He looked inside and saw two different pairs of his favorite donuts - Boston cream and cinnamon sugar - and the coffee, he predicted from it's flavorful aroma alone, had drops of hazelnut. Though Jimmy retrieved the breakfast, Clark could tell from Chloe's wayward, interested gaze that she was the actual facilitator.

_Chloe Sullivan ... always taking care of me._

"You sure you can eat so soon after your attack?" Jimmy asked, genuinely concerned.

Clark reached inside the bag to pull out one of the cinnamon sugar donuts. "Yeah ... I could eat a horse, actually."

Chloe shook her head, knowing not even death could quench a Kryptonian's outlandish hunger. Actually, Clark's ability to stuff so much food in his stomach was one of the characteristics that most attracted her. He always looked so cute when he ate, and she vowed from the moment she discovered this attraction years ago, while watching him mow down two pizzas during one of their movie parties, to keep it to herself. Someday, however, she promised to find a way to lick sauce off his lips.

"Well," she said, pulling Jimmy back with her into the kitchen. "Why don't we let him eat and get dressed, huh? Then you can go with Lois to the Smallville festival bash today, and Clark and I can go do our investigate stuff."

"Sure you don't want me to help?" he asked, hopeful Chloe would change her mind. He hated not being here to protect her, especially if this killer almost mutilated Clark.

"I'm sure," Chloe replied.

She didn't want him involved for a number of reasons; one, because she and Clark could get more accomplished without him. Two, because she still struggled to trust him in this case. And three, she worried for his safety with the same fervor she felt for everyone else. Drawing a hand across the front of his sweater, the fabric soft and warm underneath her touch, she recalled how close they came to making love the night before. Not knowing how this case was going to end, and seeing Clark so injured, she now wished they had had sex in the event something happened to one of them in the next few days. Cases of this dangerous magnitude bring people closer together, if only to remind them of what they have, and what they could lose.

Clark perked his ears the moment he heard Chloe's plan for the day. He was certain Jimmy would be with them while they searched through the affidavits, even if he didn't tell Chloe about his work with a few of the major Daily Planet reporters two nights ago. In all honesty, Clark has yet to see one of Jimmy's pictures from the crime scene, which he took just hours after the crime took place. Not that it would matter much to him, especially when he believed they already had the upper hand on the competition with his own eyewitness account last night. Nevertheless, Jimmy's actions, though he was basically an honorable guy, were cagey, to say the least.

"Promise we'll meet up later tonight?" Jimmy asked, pulling her in close against him.

Chloe wrapped her arms around his neck. "Promise," she whispered huskily. They kissed once more, and Clark turned away from the scene. _Do they __**wait **__for me to do this?_

_Stop thinking that, _Clark scolded himself silently. _Remember ... you promised to wait for your turn. It'll come. _

Chloe suddenly sat down next to him with laptop in hand, and no Jimmy in sight. She placed the laptop on the coffee table, flipped it open, and began to click quickly into her email.

"Ready?" she asked, glancing to him.

Clark nodded and ate the rest of his donut. After he swallowed it in two bites, he mumbled softly, "Always."

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**_to be continued ..._**

**and coming soon ... **

_Chloe didn't make him wait too long. She offered her hand to him with a soft, friendly smile, which he grasped instantly, pulling her slowly into his arms. Though her eye level came just to his shoulders, she didn't let the obvious height difference stop her from looking up into his face. Just as he didn't let her petite form stop him from staring down endlessly into hers. They swayed back and forth to the music, and though Clark had no dance skill for faster songs, the slow songs he could do well. Very well, Chloe thought with a blush, casting her eyes back down to his chest. Then she drew closer to the curve of his shoulder, taken by his wonderful scent, which consisted of Calvin Klein, the smell of burning wood, and something entirely his own. _


	8. Affidavits and Massages

**Episode Eight: Affidavits and Massages**

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Over the next three hours, Clark and Chloe investigated the murders in extreme detail. Clark, because he could read material so quickly, searched through the numerous affidavits printed from Chloe's email for anything remotely helpful. Chloe, on the other hand, gathered information about last night's murder with a few well-placed phone calls to sources she still had in Smallville. In very little time, she discovered Clark and the young woman were not the only two victims of the killer the previous night.

Apparently the young woman, this one named Abigail Jamison, brought her boyfriend, Zachary Conner, to the bonfire. Desperate for time alone, Abigail and Zack had ventured into the quiet woods to make out under a tree. And just as he laid Abigail out on the grass, the killer emerged from the darkness, claws and teeth drawn. Luckily for Zack, the killer's interest in him flagged the moment it saw Abigail's face. The young man was thrown off of her immediately, driven fifty feet through the air. He landed roughly on the ground, and slipped quickly into unconsciousness due to his hard landing. He saw nothing of the killer, or the murder of his girlfriend, until he came to and rushed through the woods to find her. When he came upon the scene the killer was long gone, but his girlfriend remained, naked and sliced open across her chest.

Now Zachary was in the hospital with a nasty slash across his stomach, which he never noticed until he walked over to Abigail's body and noticed blood soaking through his shirt. The ambulance took him to the Smallville Medical Center, and though only a seemingly simple cut across his midsection, the doctors quickly pegged him as critical. Physical trauma aside, Chloe sensed the mental impact on him had to be the reason for the seriousness of his condition.

The moment her source at the Smallville Police Station told her about the boyfriend, Chloe wondered how she ever could have missed his presence at the crime scene in the short time she was there. Though all of her time and effort last night, along with Jimmy and Lois, had been spent returning Clark home safely, she still should have seen the presence of a possible witness at the scene.

Then again, taking care of her best friend was never an easy task and almost always monopolized her time. Only she knew of Clark's super healing, and to keep his identity hidden, she had to take him home before the emergency medical technicians discovered his extensive injuries and tried to take him to the Smallville Medical Center for treatment. The authorities were less likely to step away from Clark's condition than his friends, whom only did so by Chloe's insistence. And the latter was only possible because she found Clark first. She had zipped up his jacket to hide the slashes to his chest, and then wrapped his wrist up quickly with a handkerchief from her purse. When Jimmy and Lois finally arrived, Chloe told them she had already checked Clark's body for injuries and found nothing serious. _Most of the blood on his jacket must have been from the victim he tried to save, because otherwise he seemed okay – save from the bump on his head and lacerations on his face and hands. _

Thankfully, they didn't try to decipher the high pitch tone of her voice when she lied to them, nor did they insist on staying at the Kent Farm when she and Martha Kent told them everything with Clark would be okay.

Chloe didn't even want to consider where Clark would be if she hadn't reached him in time - probably in some science lab, or forced to live in seclusion up north.

Currently Chloe had her eyes on the Metropolis Police Department web page. She vowed never to come back here because she feared someone would discover her illegal entries into the site sooner or later. However, after last night's murder, the latest information on Julie's case was more essential than ever. Though affidavits were not released, the dossier of the evidence gathered at the scene did appear. In Erika's case, other than the body and the car, very little evidence had been found to help the police find the murderer. So though she didn't expect to see much when she clicked on the link into the evidence file on Julie's murder, Chloe could not help the burn of her curiosity. She had to see it, just to make sure.

And just like the day before, the tiny hourglass appeared on her click, making her wait.

Next to her, Clark started to make a list of all the similarities between the three cases. He remembered very little from last night, despite Chloe's questions to help jog his memory. Unfortunately, much of it was still a nasty blur, and only random images he didn't understand. After such an attack, it was probably normal for someone, even him, to not only need to heal physically, but mentally, as well. His mind, apparently, was struggling to catch up.

Reading the affidavits took little time for Clark, and gave him a chance to think about something other than his attack. Yet deciphering the pages and pages of material became the real challenge, and while Chloe continued to search through the MPD web files, he tried desperately to make sense of the Erika Lawson murder. With the similarities, he also listed the events of the case in chronological order, such as; _"Erika's car reportedly broke down on the road at 8:50 PM". _Doing the task, though meticulous, helped establish the story of her murder in great detail. Before long, Clark practically had her entire case memorized, right down to the moment the police arrived on the scene.

However, nothing caught his attention more than something Erika's husband said in his affidavit.

Chloe took the last sip of her coffee, then stood and walked to the fresh pot Clark made a few minutes before. This was their second pot of coffee thus far in the three hours they've spent wading through paperwork. Chloe was used to the extra caffeine, but not quiet this early and this frequently in the morning. She always drank a lot of coffee while on a case, though this one lit an extra craving in her body. Because of what happened to Clark the night before, she felt far more anxious to finish this case than usual, which explained her heightened need for her most favorite physical comfort. Her worry for her best friend increased over the course of the long night, even while she fell asleep in another man's arms.

"Want some more?" she asked, gesturing to the pot as she poured herself another cup of coffee.

Clark shrugged heavily, and then rubbed a casual hand across the back of his neck. "No ... I think I'm starting to float without any effort at all."

Chloe set the pot back onto the burner. "Have you found anything more than the psycho Daily Planet janitor who swore on his dead cat's grave that he doesn't practice cannibalism?"

"Well," he said, hiding his smile to her sarcasm, "It took me two hours, but I think I found something neither of us knew."

"Really?"

Clark nodded and leaned back in his chair. He rubbed the back of his neck once more, this time making a face of discomfort while he did so. "Something the husband said during the police interrogation."

"Hmm," Chloe said, taking a sip of her coffee. "Nothing like the _'I had an affair and wanted to kill her to be with my mistress' _type, is it?"

"No, nothing like that," he promised, unable to hide his smile this time. He flipped the file over to the page with the quote from the husband. "He said his wife often mentioned she felt someone was stalking her."

Chloe stiffened slightly, and recalled the love note she received yesterday afternoon. Still she kept it close, as if waiting for it to explode at any moment. Or, like at this very second, wait and find it's suspected significance in this case. Though she predicated the author of the note might be the killer, now she had circumstantial evidence to prove her theory. And she really didn't know how to feel about that conclusion.

As Clark moved a hand to his shoulder, massaging it slightly with his fingertips, he noticed Chloe's blank stare. "Something wrong?"

She blinked a few times, then turned her attention to Clark, who struggled to hide the pain still present in his back muscles. "Yeah," she finally admitted in a whisper. Chloe walked around the table, set her mug next to her laptop on her way by, and stood behind him. She moved his hand off his shoulder with an insistent, light push, and then set her own hands on each of his shoulders instead. Bending down close to him, she said, "I hate it when super heroes tried to hide their pain."

Clark wanted to stop her, but his strength left him the moment her hands began to knead away the knots in his muscles. It felt incredible, and made him feel fully surrendered to her whim. He had envisioned a scenario like this before, especially recently with his mind so preoccupied by sexy images of her. Though having her in his shower was his favorite fantasy, her hands massaging his shoulders often visited him just as often, while he fought the struggles and sadness that still lingered in his heart from his role in the devastation of the city at Zod's hand. The death of his father, though now nine months in the past, had recently been keeping him late at night, as well, and more than he was willing to admit. When his father's loss was still new to him, Clark would lie awake endlessly, with tears blurring his vision, making it difficult to see anything of value. His control over his emotions has grown since then, and now all he wanted now was his best friend to comfort him, massage away his troubles, and tell him she would never leave him.

Lay next to him on his couch, in her bed, hours after sex, the pleasure from which still tingled like fire through their bodies ... kissing each other casually, meaningfully, until the entire world around them disappeared.

He could find comfort there ... in her arms.

He could find it here just as easily, while she tenderly pressed her fingertips tenderly on his muscles. His breathing evened, and he wondered if it would be inappropriate to close his eyes. _To let the pleasurable moan escape his lips ... let her hear the desire she's arising in him ... _

Chloe bent down close to him, her attention drawn entirely to the files in front of them rather than the boy drowning in her touch. "Is this the quote?" she asked, moving her right hand from his shoulder to point at the page.

Clark nodded. _Okay, mind back to case ... enough fooling around_. "Did Julie ever mention a stalker?" he asked, happy he thought of something relevant while under such pleasurable distress.

"Not to me," Chloe replied. Her left hand continued to massage his other shoulder gently, and she smirked when she heard a faint grumble of satisfaction escape his throat. "How about we take the Kent Express to talk to the boyfriend? Maybe Abigail Jamison had a stalker."

"Okay," he complied softly.

Chloe placed both hands back, but lowered them to the spot between his shoulder blades. She kneaded the muscles there a little harder than those in his shoulders, and this time Clark couldn't help but moan a little. Pressing her knuckles into his back, Chloe lowered her lips to his ear with a wide grin. "If I'd known just a massage made you so agreeable, I would've given you one every day since we've met."

_Only when you administer them. _"I never knew, either," he whispered, smiling at the ignorance in his voice.

Chloe laughed lightly and pulled away from him, taking her hands with her. Only Clark's strength kept him from shamelessly whimpering at the loss of her delicate touch. _Could I be so easy? _he asked to himself silently, amused with his own low threshold to pleasurable torture. Though, to be perfectly fair to the level of his weakness, he had been doing everything Chloe asked him to do since he discovered his feelings for her more than four months ago, when her kiss at the Planet awakened every nerve ending in his body. Having her massage his shoulders just made him agree faster than usual.

Not that he disagreed with her in this case. They needed to go speak to the boyfriend, and maybe even to Erika Lawson's husband before this day was over with. Yet he wondered, while in the heat of passion, what other things Chloe could make him do. As Lois accused him of before, he would be Chloe's love slave - _literally_. No telling the adventures they could have in bed, especially if he was completely under her control. Just the thought made him stir in his pants with interest, and he wondered if he was always this insatiable. Or did Chloe bring it out of him?

"Hey, Clark," Chloe said, breaking his thoughts. While she grabbed her purse and notepad for their upcoming interviews, she noticed her click into the evidence file web page for Julie's case finally produced results. "Come here and look at this."

Clark rose from his chair and walked over to her, standing behind her petite form as both studied the contents of the file. "Says blood and fingerprint samples were found at the crime scene," he recited softly, a little surprised.

"Investigators for Erika Lawson's murder weren't nearly as lucky," Chloe observed. "I wonder what caused the killer to slip up this time."

He shrugged. "Maybe the neighbor who found Julie spooked it before it had a chance to clean-up."

Chloe thought about it for a moment. Actually, finding no physical evidence of the murderer at Erika Lawson's crime scene was incredibly unusual. Considering the way the murderer ends his victim's lives, certainly something valuable should slip through the cracks. Cannibalism, by nature, was a messy way to kill someone, and the discovery of the hair follicle at Julie's crime scene proved the killer was far from perfect.

And for the first time she sensed the possible solution for such inconsistency within the police department.

"Maybe the MPD is covering up for someone," Chloe said flatly. She glanced up at Clark. "Wouldn't be the first time, right? It would explain the reason why it takes a light-year to get into their restricted site."

Clark, for the first time in the last few days, disagreed with her. "You really think the MPD would cover for someone, or something, like this?"

"Assuming what we're dealing with here is a human being ... sure, why not? The politics in this could put Watergate to shame."

However, he still had doubts, no matter the rise of the excitement in her voice. "If they're really covering up, then why admit evidence was found in Julie's case? Why not hide that, too?"

"I don't know," she admitted, walking towards the door. "Maybe one of the officers finally grew a conscience and decided two demon-isque killings in one week was enough."

Clark sighed heavily, unsure if he could believe such corruption could exist on a case of this gruesome nature. Maybe he was a softy, but he tended to believe most people were good at heart, and something this horrific would be on everyone's list to solve before it happened again. Such optimism helps him believe in people when no one else does, and is the perfect counterpart to Chloe's usual skepticism. To be honest, Chloe made an excellent argument, and it seemed to fit snugly within the odd structure of the two cases.

But he just couldn't bring himself to believe in such evil.

"Maybe," he offered, though with not much enthusiasm. He walked over to the door to stand next to her, and his nostrils suddenly flared in delight. _She tells me how good I smell ... but wow, what was she wearing? _He wondered why it took him so long to notice, though he was sure it had something to do with where his mind usually resided while he stared endlessly at her beautiful body. _Here I go again, _he murmured silently, letting his eyes wander before she spoke to him. _Her beautiful eyes, luscious lips ... smooth, swan-like neck ... perfect supple breasts, each with rosy pink nipples he longed to suck ... _

Chloe smirked. "So is this my next chance to give you a massage?"

Clark jerked his thoughts out of his head. "What?"

She grabbed a hold of his arm and pulled him outside. "So you'll agree with me."

He shrugged sheepishly, grinning. "Never hurts to seduce your competition."

"We'll see," she replied knowingly. She pulled him closer to her, then whispered softly, "Let's run, Speedy."

000000000000000

**_to be continued .._**


	9. Witness

**Episode Nine: Witness**

**0000000000000000**

The Smallville Medical Center looked just as busy as always. For a small town medical facility, the hospital had certainly dealt with its share of catastrophes in the past. _Meteor showers being the most common_, Chloe acutely observed. _Or something to do with their ramifications. _She could almost name off all the reasons why she ended up here, many of which were caused by meteor juiced criminals. Sometimes she came here to investigate, though rarely. Especially now since she worked for the Planet rather than the Torch, Chloe, if the case involved the role of a hospital, usually went to Metropolis Memorial for reference or information. As with every other major facilitator in the city, she also had a source there she called upon on occasion. Though, gratefully, her history with that source had to do with a mutual dislike of the Luthor Empire. If Chloe could twist her case to make Luthor involved, she almost always received her needed information without a problem.

At the moment, Chloe sat quietly with Clark in the waiting room. Because Abigail Jamison's boyfriend, Zachary, had extensive injuries, both physical and mental, his visiting hours were far more limited than the other patients. When they arrived here in a blink of a second, she naively expected to go right into his room with no trouble. Unfortunately, the nurse at the counter stopped them before they could sneak, or have time to make an effective excuse ... _"We're family... can't you tell?"_

So they were forced to wait. Clark spent most of his time looking at a Science Fiction magazine, while Chloe sat quietly next to him. She checked her phone for messages quite a few times, and noticed the text messages Jimmy sent to her over the course of the morning. _"How's it going, babe?" - "Anything new?" - "Thirty minutes, and Lois hasn't tried to kill me yet. Progress, right?" - "Won a tiny teddy bear for you." - "Will you call it Mini-Jimmy?" - "What are you wearing right now?"_

Chloe rolled her eyes at the last, knowing she could almost hear him saying it if she closed her eyes. Whenever he called her late at night, he always asked her that question. He was getting much better at it, too, because he discovered the basic time to call so he could catch her in a bath. The conversation would always grow from there, in a direction Chloe had not intended before she answered the phone. Nevertheless, though she stopped having sex with him a while ago, he could still get her off with his words whispered through a phone, into her ear, and while she laid naked in a bathtub full of hot, soapy water.

Suddenly her phone vibrated in her hand, prompting her to relinquish the sexy thoughts of her boyfriend. She flipped to her caller ID and saw Jeremy's name, the criminologist, flash on her screen. Smiling, she answered, "Hey. Did you find anything?"

Jeremy was still at his lab in Metropolis, sitting on a stool bellied up to his tall, gray research counter. "Yup, I think you'll be pretty delighted."

"Let me guess ... hamster on steroids?"

He grimaced. "Not quite, Nancy Drew. I tested the hair follicle, and it's partly human."

Chloe leaned back in her chair. She stared at the landscape painting of a meadow on the wall across from her, and asked curiously, "_Partly_ human? Is that science lingo for half-human, half-rapid beast?"

"Something like that," Jeremy replied. "The hair is definitely human, but I also found something I couldn't really trace. Almost like ... canine."

"Canine?" Chloe asked quickly, confused.

But she covered her eyes with her hand in the next second, letting the information settle on her mind and realizing immediately what it meant.

"Oh, God ... a werewolf."

Jeremy sighed into the phone. "Yeah." he admitted. "That's what I thought, too. Even though the medical likelihood is practically impossible, you never know with this region. I've seen plenty of weird things to believe otherwise."

Chloe cursed herself for not discovering this important aspect of the killer sooner. No wonder no one could see it's face at night, with it covered over in hair, or describe it accurately to the authorities. And really, it almost gave her relief to know the killer was basically human, rooted into a demonic state against its will. From her very brief study of the werewolf while researching demonic presences on the earth from years ago in high school, she remembered the human involved often suffered from a state of delusion they couldn't fight on their own. However, like some legends suggest, a few unfortunate individuals were reportedly born with the canine gene in their body that turned them evil - the same fate Jeremy suggests with his findings. The killer wasn't some gruesome monster, or even a human bent on bringing cannibalism back into normal day life. This person was a very sick individual who needed drastic mental and physical attention.

Better yet, it was something that could be defeated. If not by Clark, then certainly by someone else just as equipped.

"Can you tell me something else?" Chloe asked, inwardly ecstatic by this new development. _If the killer was human, then the blood at Julie's crime scene _... "Did the MPD give you the evidence for Julie Thompson's murder?"

Jeremy hesitated. "Well ... uh, they gave me a little bit."

Chloe smiled into the phone. "What are the chances of learning about your findings when you're finished?"

Jeremy thought about it for a moment, and then aptly replied, "For you? How about the price of dinner?"

"It's a deal," she whispered without wasting a moment to consider the ramifications, knowing the information was far more important. Especially if it saved people from future attacks, including Clark. Once the case was over, she could more adequately explain her actions to Jimmy. _"Don't worry, honey, it was for the sake of truth. And it's only dinner. When the date's over, I promise to sleep the night away in your arms."_

Clark suddenly appeared before her with two bags of M&M's in his hand. He handed one to Chloe, who took it with a smile. Into her phone, she said regretfully, "Sorry, I've gotta go. But thanks for the heads-up."

"No problem," Jeremy reassured, hanging up his end of the conversation with a click of a button.

Chloe closed her cell phone and stood up. "Thanks for the chocolate," she said, tucking the bag of candy into her purse for future consumption. "Jeremy just called with a strange twist on our killer."

Clark's eyebrows rose with interest. "Really? What did we miss?"

"The obvious."

"What?"

Chloe checked her watch to see how close they were to the short window for visiting hours. Thankfully, the time had come. "Seems like our killer is both beast and human alike," she said, glancing to him. "A werewolf."

Clark looked to her skeptically. "A werewolf? There's a reason why we didn't think of it before now ... because they don't exist."

"Neither do vampires," she chided softly, remembering their stint at a Metropolis University sorority exactly a year ago. "What's to say this couldn't be some lunatic who has the dire need to fetch a bone now and then?"

"You make it sound so garden-variety," Clark noted, opening his bag of candy and eating a candy coated, chocolate morsel.

She took his arm and led him to the nurses' station. "Is this you're way of asking for another massage, Clark?"

He blushed incredulously, because the thought had not even crossed his mind until now. _Yeah, if I get to feel your hands on my shoulders again ... sure, I'll agree it's a werewolf, _the unashamed side of his heart screamed. The rational side, of course, reminded him to keep his head. Chloe needed a devil's advocate when she flew on the radical wings of her crazy theories. Regardless of how frequently she was right, most of the world didn't act on the whim of meteor rock, or on the innate urge to fill one's animalist hunger by feasting on a young woman.

"Don't you think it's most likely a sick individual who's found himself in some weird, ancient religion? I'm having trouble picturing an individual changing magically into any type of a wolf," Clark said.

Chloe retained permission from the head nurse to visit Zachary Conner. And as she and Clark walked down the hallway to his room, she eagerly reminded him, "So Native American girls don't count?"

Clark grimaced. "Khyla was different. The Kwatchee people are different. They're not some mythical legend based on fairytales and ghost stories."

Zachary Conner's room appeared up ahead on the left, the numbers 2-1-9 stuck to the left side of the door. Only a rectangular window stretched vertically on the outside of the door, around two feet long and not more than six inches in width, gave them a way to look into the room before entering. Chloe peeked through the glass to catch an early glimpse of their interviewee, but the glare from the sun through the blinds in the room window made it difficult for her to see anything.

With a sigh, she turned to Clark with a little smile. "You know, Clark, you can stop arguing with me at any time. You've already earned your next massage awhile ago."

"Okay, Miss Hotshot Reporter ... we'll see who's right at the end," he challenged quietly.

Chloe only smiled at him while she opened the door to the dark hospital room. Once inside, they each noticed the TV flickering in the top, far left hand corner, hanging from the ceiling by a steel arm bolted into its side. When Chloe approached the bed, Zachary's still form, propped at angle so he could sit up, led her to believe he was still sleeping. With the lights darkened and blinds drawn to block out the afternoon sun, she worried their interview would have to wait another few hours, or perhaps even the next day.

Clark, on the other hand, didn't concentrate immediately on the dreary details of the room, or on the still form of the young man in the hospital bed. Instead he was trying to discover why a tiny wave of nausea suddenly grew in his stomach. Before he could attempt to fathom the reason for the odd, though familiar feeling, the sensation faded away to barely noticeable. Because he was so concerned about the case, by the time the interview with Zachary began Clark had almost forgotten his nausea completely.

Zachary turned his head to them the moment Clark and Chloe closed the distance a little further. Clark, the tingle of sickness still lingering in his system, studied the young man hard, whose eyes were glazed over by numerous painkillers and medications to help his condition along. An IV stuck in his left hand kept fluids flowing through his body, preventing dehydration. Dressed in a hospital gown, the wound across his stomach was covered efficiently by its thin fabric. When Clark tried to X-ray to catch a super glimpse, he came upon a bandage taped across the area to halt his efforts for just a second longer.

Before he had a chance to X-ray further down, however, Chloe spoke. "Zachary, right?"

The man nodded. "Yeah ... how do I know you?"

She stepped a little closer to him. "Well, you don't yet. I'm Chloe," she said, gesturing to herself, and then turning to Clark standing behind her. "And this is Clark. We were both at the bonfire last night, and heard you were attacked, just like Abigail. We came to see how you were."

"Thank you," Zack said quietly, turning his eyes away from them. "I never want to go through something like that again."

_I don't either, _Clark agreed silently. "Did you catch a glimpse of the person who did this?"

Zack shook his head sadly. "Not even a wink," he admitted sourly, angrily. "Someone needs to catch the son of a bitch before he does this again."

"I know," Chloe said. "And actually, that's another reason why we're here. We want to find the person who did this."

"You? Why?"

Chloe felt her heart ache in memory of the moment she heard of Julie's death. Though they had not been friends for very long, the two had formed a bond due to frequent late hours spent together at the Planet, then recently because of Chloe's relationship with Jimmy. She had gone to Julie with many of her relationship woes, and often came away with a decent perspective on otherwise frustrating situations. Because Julie was married, her advice carried a weight of wisdom Chloe couldn't get from Lois or Lana - neither of whom have had a working relationship. Advice from Lana, while she was involved with Lex, almost seemed laughable. And from Lois, Chloe oddly felt distance between them as of late. As if Lois had drifted to the side of another, though she would never turn her back on her favorite cousin. She just seemed ... preoccupied, and rather unwilling to get involved with the Jimmy phase of Chloe's life.

Pulling back from her thoughts, she finally answered solemnly, "Because I lost someone, too. And because I'm a reporter from the Planet."

"Reporters?" Zack asked, looking between Clark and Chloe with an inquisitive eye. "Daily Planet people were already here last night."

Clark patted the man on the arm. "Well, the Planet likes to be thorough. You can trust us, I promise. We're only here to help."

Zack hesitated for only a moment, then let the caution drain from his eyes. He looked down to his hands folded neatly in his lap, and asked softly, "So ... what do you want to know?"

"You said you didn't see anything?" Chloe asked again, making sure.

"I do remember flashes of things," he replied quietly. "But nothing concrete, really. Just images I can't really put together. It all happened so fast."

Clark sat down on the edge of the bed. "Can you tell us why you were in the woods?"

Though he knew the reason from Chloe's information earlier in the day, Clark wanted to hear it. If they could get Zachary talking, it might help jog the memories from his encounter with killer. He knew as Zachary did the difficulty of piecing adrenaline charged moments together to mean anything more than a blur of a face, or flash of pain. It all tended to melt together, even for Clark who has been in these types of situations before. Yet, with kryptonite seemingly pumping through his veins, his ability to recall the events in high-tension situation was the same as everyone else.

Zachary shifted up a bit, his cheeks suddenly a deep crimson. "Well, Abigail - my girlfriend - she and I hadn't seen each other in over a week. We really didn't want to go to the bonfire, but Abigail's parents insisted on it. She grew up here, so this fall thing really means a lot to them," he explained easily. "When we got to the bonfire, her parents got lost in the crowd. So Abigail and I took advantage of our freedom, and went into the woods to make out a little." By the last word, Zachary finally began to break. His eyes glazed over, his voice cracked, and he pressed his lips tightly together to wade through the waves of emotion daring to drown him.

After taking a deep breath, however, he continued on.

"Things started to heat up a bit. We found a tree for shade, and then began to remove our clothes. But I ... she barely got my shirt unbuttoned before it grabbed my shoulder."

Chloe stepped closer, her curiosity now off the scale as she listened close. Sometimes the smallest of hints could be revealed in someone's witness testimony, even without the person knowing it. And she could not afford to miss anything on this case.

"I remember trying to turn to it, but it threw me before I had a chance to do anything."

"Did you see its face?" Chloe asked.

Zachary shook his head wearily, closing his eyes. He spoke slowly. "I don't think so. I just remember darkness. And, and teeth, definitely teeth."

Clark pressed him a little more. "Did it have yellow eyes?"

"Yeah, I think so. And fur, maybe ... all around its face. But I couldn't see much. With barely any moon last night, everything was pitch black."

Chloe gazed to Clark, sensing them coming here might have been a mistake. Well, as far as learning more about last night was concerned. The identity of the killer could not be discovered from eyewitness testimonies - that much was clear now. Though they've heard bits and pieces from witnesses late to the crime, the very little physical evidence, and two witnesses who could remember only darkness, nothing gave them even a smidgen of a lead to follow. But something else did.

"Did Abigail ever mention feeling like she was being followed?" Chloe asked, uncertain of the answer she preferred to hear.

Zachary thought for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he tried to remember anything of value. Though the two had not seen each other in over a week, they called one another every night before they went to bed. Most of the time they spoke of random subjects pertaining to nothing in particular, such as the score of a ballgame or what one of their friends supposedly said to another. Yet in the midst of all of their meaningless conversation, Zack remembered a subject that brought worry into his mind.

"A few weeks ago she said she saw a car following her. Or she thought he was. By the time she reached Smallville and turned into her driveway, the car was gone," he replied, now recalling the conversation in full detail. They were about to celebrate their sixth month anniversary as a couple, and he had called her to make plans for their special night.

"She didn't receive any threats, did she? Like in note form? Love letters from the Boogie Man or perhaps a clueless ex-boyfriend?" Chloe asked.

"No, I don't think so. I mean, if she did, she didn't tell me."

Clark looked to Chloe curiously because of her question, but let his thoughts fade for now. Instead he turned back to Zack, and immediately noticed tears had formed at the edge of his eyes. Feeling the man's pain, Clark offered softly, "Is there anything else you want to tell us? Anything that can help?"

"Not really," he said softly, lowering a casual hand to his abdomen. Tears streamed down his face the more silence settled in the room. The sadness tightened his throat like a vise, making it difficult for him to speak. But he spoke anyhow, unable to see the two reporters before him through the heavy clouds in his eyes. "Just make sure you tell her you love her."

Clark's face warmed with embarrassment. "What?" he asked, hoping Zack wasn't speaking to him directly. By the glaze in the young man's eyes, Clark prayed Zack spoke generally, or to some metaphysical presence neither he nor Chloe could see.

Thankfully, Zachary explained.

"Whoever it is ... just tell her," he said, then looked to Chloe specifically, his voice a mere crack of the strong baritone they heard on entry. "Or him," he replied, crying more. His tears of sadness had quickly turned into a rhythm, or love song even, stretched endlessly into the air. And for a moment, neither Clark nor Chloe moved, awaiting the crescendo, for the end to come. "Don't wait. I waited ... and now, Abigail will never know how I felt."

Chloe's heart drew still with his words, because she knew her feelings for Jimmy had not even come close to crossing such a meaningful threshold. And for the first time in her life, she wondered whom she would concentrate on when she finally sucked in her last breath. Her father maybe? Maybe, yeah. Probably. Her father would certainly be one of the two. Though Chloe wanted the second person to be Jimmy ... to be anyone else, really ... she realized her last thoughts would end on the obvious. No matter what.

Suddenly Zachary stared hard at Clark, face drawn with frustration. With something not even close to grief. "What are you doing here? Why are you here?" he asked, his voice a notch below outright rage.

Clark stood up in disbelief, still slight disoriented from the minimal presence of kryptonite somewhere in the room. "Zack? We were just talking ..."

"No!" he shouted, sitting up straight. He pointed his right forefinger at Clark, then Chloe, and his eyes were ablaze with an angry fire. "I know why you're here. To trick me! You're here to slice me up in tiny little pieces, just like you tried last night! Feast on me like some freak."

Chloe stepped forward slightly, trying to calm him, shocked at his apparent lack of control. _Where had this come from? _"No, Zack ... we're here to discuss the murder."

"_Murder!_ I knew it! I knew you were there! … how did you do it? How did you escape so easily? I want to know!" he screamed, lunging out of bed to strike Chloe with his fist.

Clark super sped in front of her immediately, and blocked the first with his forearm just in time. But rather than deter Zachary from further attempts, the swift block of his attack merely empowered him to try again. He swung his left hand around the second time, barely missing Clark's face by centimeters. Rather than wait for a third, Clark caught Zack's wrists in his strong grip and held on, making it difficult for the other man to move. Chloe immediately hit the call button on the wall next to her to arouse the nurses to the problem, certain some outside intervention was necessary to calm Zack's sudden outburst.

While they waited for reinforcements, Chloe watched as Zack pulled and struggled against his alien restraints, yelling obscenities loud enough for the entire hospital to hear. Clark gritted his teeth and tried to calm him with words, but to no avail. The longer he was held, the louder Zack shouted. Yet the frustration of his capture began to take hold, draining Zack of his determination every second he fought. Made him weaker, though his voice lost no intensity.

And just when both Clark and Chloe thought the situation under control, Zachary tugged his right wrist out from Clark's loosened grip and swung hard to his face. The blow forced Clark to drop to the ground, shocked and amazed with the other man's strength.

Zack tried to take his advantage there, with his apparent enemy finally driven to the ground. But the nurses stormed through the door just in time, both men and woman, to help secure the unruly patient. The men took hold of his arms and dragged him back to the bed; all the while he kicked and flailed against their will.

"Let me go! Let me go!" he shouted. But once he was sufficiently trapped on the bed, a woman nurse stabbed him in the arm with a tranquilizing drug.

Clark, who was still sprawled flat on his back on the floor, finally started to comprehend the momentary chaos all around him. He struggled to catch his breath, shocked by the power in Zachary's swing. Worse yet, as breathed in deep to regain the sense of time, he felt a stabbing pain on his lip. Absently, he ran his fingertips along his mouth, and blood smeared across his hand. His head throbbed slightly as he tried to sit up. Only Chloe's hands on his shoulders told him of her presence, as he realized on his ascension to a sitting position that she had dropped to her knees next to him the moment he had fallen.

She ran a warm, caring hand along his cheek. "Clark?" she asked, worried. "You okay? You're ... you're bleeding again."

Clark closed his eyes for a moment and licked his lips, the taste of copper potent on his tongue. He rubbed a hand along his brow, though Chloe pushed it away and cupped his face affectionately in her hands. Bent down over him, she smiled weakly, her eyes reflecting back to him the same shock clouded over his brain. Breathing hard, he nodded, wincing a bit when her fingertips grazed his bloody lip. "I'm okay," he whispered, though further consciousness aroused his attention to the pain searing through his back. Obviously, the smidgen of pain still present there due to his injuries from the night before was aggravated by his fall. Maybe he really would need that massage.

But what he still didn't understand, while Chloe stood and pulled on his arm for him to stand, was the reason for his injuries. Always the impenetrable, being struck and injured by some random beast and crazed lunatic always felt new to him. Obviously the kryptonite he sensed on entry had been very real, though hardly enough for it to bother him. Probably just the right amount of the green poison could be harmful, if only to drain away his most important power of all - impenetrability.

Standing finally, Clark gazed across the room at his attacker, now overcome by hospital personnel. A breathing mask had been placed over his mouth, and his eyelids had become heavier as the drug occupied more of his system. Zachary looked completely fazed by the tranquilizer, his assurance of Clark and Chloe's past as murderers now faded to merely a bad dream. From the quick response of the nurses, Clark guessed this had happened before.

Chloe kept hold of Clark's waist, one hand nestled along his belt while the other gripped the back of his shirt. By the slight tilt in his stance, she figured he could fall if not balanced. Once the shock wore off, she would let him go. In the meantime, holding onto her friend, she turned to the nurses still attending to Zachary's now almost lifeless form. One nurse glanced to the two reporters for a second before she came over, gauze in hand to wipe away the blood on Clark's mouth.

When she reached up to apply pressure, Clark pushed her hand away. "No, I'm fine," he insisted. Actually, he was sure the moment he stepped out of the room his lip would heal.

"What just happened here? When we came in Zack looked like a zombie, and a minute later he thinks we're ghosts at the Outlook Hotel," Chloe replied heatedly, her gaze centered on the nurse who offered Clark assistance. "Care to elaborate why he turned into Mr. Hyde so quickly?"

Another nurse stepped over to them when she heard Chloe's rant of concern. With a sigh, she explained coolly, "Just the mental response to the trauma. Post Traumatic Stress mainly. No need to worry, though. The doctors will have it under control soon."

Clark furrowed his brow. "Are you implying this has happened before?"

The nurse smiled tightly. "I suggest you have someone look at your lip, Mr. Kent," she replied simply, moving past them. "Excuse me," she whispered, walking out the door and into the hallway.

Chloe sighed irritably as she watched the nurse leave. After a moment, she gazed up at Clark, his lip still spewing a trickle of blood. If the evasiveness of the medical staff at Smallville Medical Center wasn't enough, now Chloe really had to worry about Clark's health. A million different scenarios could explain the sudden lapse of his powers, though they boiled down to mainly one alone; the presence of kryptonite. Perhaps when the monster slashed Clark with his claws, kryptonite from the monster had somehow entered his system for a short while.

And maybe kryptonite was somewhere on Zachary, or in this room, as well. Though Clark didn't complain of nausea when they came in, he still could have felt something and just decided not to tell her.

"You okay?" she asked, drawing a thumb along his cheek.

Clark nodded. "Let's go back to the farm before we go see the husband. We need to figure this out. I can't be of any help to anyone if this continues."

0000000000000000

**_to be continued ..._**


	10. Fantasies

**Episode Ten: Fantasies**

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Back at the farm, Clark, with lip completely healed, sat at the kitchen table with a massive pile of books on werewolves. When they left the Smallville Medical Center they stopped at the library before going home. They wanted to learn more about werewolves before going back into Metropolis to speak to Erika Lawson's husband. Since Clark could read books so quickly, they signed out quite a few - as many as he felt he could read. While Clark worked on the werewolf section of the case, Chloe wanted to look further into the affidavits for anything they might have missed. She also wanted to check out national asylums for any reports of a recent admission of someone claiming to be a werewolf. Though the sample carried a tiny trace of canine characteristics, neither of them could assume the killer was a full-fledged werewolf. Not knowing how werewolves worked, or those who suffered from the disease, there was no telling what the person might have done to feel closer to his chosen species.

Clark took the book off the top of the pile, skimmed through it in about twenty seconds, and then placed it down on the floor next to those he had already read. He quickly jotted down the new information from the material. After a moment, he turned his attention to Chloe, whose eyes stared off at something other than her laptop.

"Anything?" he asked.

Chloe quickly glanced back to her computer screen, as if emerging from a dream with a small jolt. "Not really," she whispered, clicking the mouse a few times. "Nothing new in the affidavits. I took a tour through the nation's five-star asylums, and no reports of a recent patient claiming to have big teeth and a nasty temper." A moment passed between them as Clark continued to stare at his notes. Chloe, on the other hand, continued to stare at him with great interest. When he didn't seem to notice her stare, she finally replied, "So, are you going to tell me?"

He finally looked up from his notes. "Tell you?" he asked, confused.

Chloe arched her eyebrows curiously. "Zachary's ability to break your skin didn't shock you?"

"Actually," Clark began, "I felt a little weak when we first walked in."

"Like kryptonite weak?"

"Yeah."

Chloe rolled her eyes irritably, though with clear concern. "Clark, I wish you would've said something."

"Like what? Announce to you and Zachary that something in the room is making me ill? So free shots are welcome?"

"You make jokes, Clark, but had I known you were about to turn toxic green at any moment, I would've made you wait in the hall. The last thing I need is for my _Kryptonian_ friend to keel over in the middle of a small town, American hospital. By next week, you could've been on some tiny train car in the middle of Alaska, being dissected by CIA scientists."

Clark looked down at his notes grimly, twirling his pencil between his forefinger and middle. "You watch too much X-Files," he said, smiling. Actually, she had recently developed the enjoyment of the show because he made her watch a marathon with him. Who knew she would use it in her everyday sarcasm? "Besides, I didn't almost faint. I barely felt it at all."

"Even so, any kryptonite reaction should immediately draw a yellow flag. It's too dangerous to be overlooked, and we both know it."

He decided he didn't want to talk about this right now, and aptly changed the subject. "Want to hear the latest characteristics on our killer?"

"Sure," she said, clicking away from the useless websites and into her email. "But I'm not dropping this kryptonite teleplay any time soon."

"Lycanthropy," he announced aloud, ignoring her words as he looked to her with a smirk. "The transformation of a human into a werewolf. Happens two ways - those who are mentally ill and imagine themselves as a werewolf, and those who can magically transform into the real thing, using ointments or charms," Clark said, smirking at the last bit. "I'm tending to believe the former."

Chloe decided not to push it. "Go on."

"From the Guide to Werewolves, Vampires, and Other Mystical Beings, werewolves can see their prey from many kilometers away. They kill their victims by a strike to the jugular vein in the neck."

"Which explains the high concentration of _slash wounds _in that area on the bodies," Chloe pointed out quickly.

Clark smiled. "Right. And once the werewolf kills, it devours the remains."

"So the cannibalism is explained. It's just a Bell Reeve approved individual playing out the instincts of his extreme mental state."

"Seems so," he said, glancing down further on the _'Characteristics of the Werewolf'_ page he created from his notes. "By the information given, the werewolf sickness is present in someone who was conceived under the new moon. In human form, it has slanted eyebrows, has an over excessive amount of hair on their bodies, pointed ears, and protruding teeth," he added, listing off the information rather quickly.

"Hmm, what I expect to see when I pay for my once in a lifetime werewolf sighting," she chided.

"It also tends to change at night – of course."

Chloe thought about the information for a moment, her head swirling in its detail. Because the werewolf would go back into human form once the dawn of a new day came, finding the killer would be incredibly difficult. In human form, the killer could be anyone. Though the physical characteristics were good to know so they could look for the unusual mixture on possible suspects, Chloe found her thoughts centered on the way a werewolf was conceived. _Under the new moon ... With barely any moon last night, everything was pitch black ... that was what Zachary said before he went insane, right? _Chloe asked, suddenly consumed with theories.

"Don't werewolves attack because of the moon?" Chloe asked, making Clark look up from his notes.

Clark skimmed his notes. "It is last on my list … courtesy of the 'Modern Tales of Your Everyday Werewolf."

Chloe smirked knowingly, though ignored the sarcasm dripping from his tone. "Well, you said a werewolf is conceived under a new moon ... do you think he likes to partake in his cuisine under one, too? Both you and Zack said it was difficult to see anything last night because there was hardly any moonlight. Not that moonlight would have helped much ... but what if the werewolf uses it as a disguise? Because he knows people would struggle to see him clearly? Plus, seems like an werewolf's actions would be dictated by the phases of the moon, right, since his conception is so dependent on one?"

Clark stood immediately and walked over to the calendar hanging from the wall beside the kitchen door. He looked through the days of the month. "October 21st," he recited, looking back at her with question. "That's tonight. Julie was killed a few days ago, and Abigail last night."

"Maybe he kills around the date rather than on it?"

"Check the first murder," Clark requested, grabbing the calendar and walking around the kitchen table to stand behind her at the computer.

Chloe clicked out of her email to find the file containing the basic facts of all three cases. Since both Julie's and Abigail's murders took place just a few days before the new moon, all they needed was the date of Erika Lawson's murder to give the theory validation. While Clark flipped his calendar to the month of May, Chloe found the file hidden under _My Documents _on her laptop. As she clicked around to retrieve the file, Clark bent down close to her with his right forearm curled in and settled on the back of her chair. She could hardly think straight with him so close, feeling as sexy and handsome as ever. When his warm breath tickled the nape of her neck, Chloe had to bite down on her lip to suppress the animalistic urges boiling inside of her. _Stand, grab him tight, kiss him hard, and tug him insistently towards his bedroom upstairs where they could make passionate love for hours and hours ... _

Jimmy's face then floated in front of her eyes. That's right, she did have a boyfriend. A boyfriend she truly wanted to be with, and someone she has trusted intimately more than once. Jimmy loved her, and that was more than what many people had in their own relationships. Of course, her urges for Clark were merely reaction to a basic, human need and desire. If any woman had Clark Kent standing behind them so close, they would want to have sex with him, too.

The file came up, gratefully giving Chloe a reason to concentrate on something else. And the date of Erika Lawson's murder –

"May 24th," she recited, glancing up to Clark for the date of the new moon in the month of May.

He looked briefly, and then closed the calendar. His face mere centimeters from Chloe, he whispered, "May 25th."

Clark lingered there a moment, so close to her beautiful eyes. He stared in them for a while; surprised Chloe didn't try to move. The entire world halted under their mutual gaze, and under their sudden need for something both have denied one time or another. And for the first time since they met they _both_ felt the desire, at the same time and while they spent a second of eternity in the depths of a quiet, farmhouse kitchen. The sun had dipped below the horizon by now, and it left only the soft glow from the lamps in the living room and kitchen to illuminate their endless stare. Just inches from her lips, so close to taking everything he wanted, Clark wondered if his time had come. Should he just kiss her? Let her know how he felt in the tender press of his warm lips?

Chloe suddenly jumped from her seat with her cell phone to her ear before Clark realized what had happened. When he heard her delightful, though guarded greeting, he knew exactly why she flew out of her seat, and to whom she was now speaking with. Her cell phone had vibrated, and on the other end was the man squarely in the middle.

"Hey, sweetie," she whispered tightly, turning her gaze to Clark. Her cheeks flushed when she caught the fire in his eyes, something more than just lust or momentary need. She swallowed hard and glanced back at the green, oval shaped lamp on the kitchen counter, aglow with a soft sixty watts. After a moment, she responded weakly, "Don't worry about it."

Clark studied her for a moment. Or tried to. Soon he had to turn away to hide his own blush, certain she could see right through him. It was bad enough he sported a small hard-on every time he came into contact with her. Now she would see why, because the warmth coursing through his body and the bubble of unconditional love in his heart would do nothing but give him away. Tightening his hands into fists, he closed his eyes tight and prayed for the power to teleport, because no other place in the entire world could carry this much awkwardness and tension.

"Seriously, Jimmy, it's fine. I've lived nineteen years of my life without you. I know I can handle a day or two," she reassured, biting her lip.

Clark listened close, his back turned to her completely. When she finally said goodbye, not without a few _'I'll miss you's_'and giggles for good measure, Clark glanced over his shoulder to look at her once more. The red had drained from her cheeks, replaced with the composure so often present in her beautiful aura. She merely smiled and returned to her chair at the kitchen table. Clark watched her for a moment, then went back to his own seat, determined to keep distance between them. If he ever came that close again any time soon, he was sure to lose it completely. _Kiss her hard, pick her up in his strong arms, and speed them to his bedroom upstairs. There he could pleasure her until she whimpered his name in the pillow, her hands balls of fists in his black hair as she came with a whimper above him, underneath him – the taste of her own sweet tonic on his lips something he would never forget. Her eyes would beg him; her voice a breathless plea from her lips … 'love me' … _

"That was Jimmy," she said finally, quietly. "Said he was called back to Metropolis for a big assignment, and won't be here for the rest of the weekend."

"Oh," Clark whispered, strangely saddened by Jimmy's disappearance. Maybe because he knew it hurt Chloe more than she was willing to let on. "I'm sorry. I know you wanted this weekend with him to be special."

Chloe shrugged casually. "That's okay. The three amigos will just have to make do, right?" she offered, smiling softly in his direction.

"Right," he replied, returning her smile. "You, me, and Lois."

Suddenly the tiny mailbox in the right hand corner of her screen flickered with delight. She glanced over to it, and watched as the metal looking front flap of the box dropped open to reveal the hidden white envelope inside. When she clicked the icon to go back into her email to check her new message, Chloe decided to change the subject from Jimmy to the case at a hand, aware of her wish to forget the disappointment looming in her chest.

Strangely, however, the disappointment couldn't outweigh the pressure in her heart. No Jimmy this weekend. But she did have Clark.

"Anything more we need to know about werewolves before we face down our first? Does it mention the best way to kill them? Magical potions from New England, mixed in cauldrons and blessed by the local priest, or something?" Chloe asked, watching as her inbox downloaded. The new message had only a smiley face in its subject and no return to address. She clicked into it without the least bit of hesitation, waiting for the spam messages trying to convince her to sign up for the latest online contest to win a car, or to use erection enhancement to have a more fulfilling sex life.

Clark gazed down at his notes, skimming them close. "Well, some are afraid of fire. And water."

"Okay, so ... do we drown it or burn it?"

"Neither," he replied, grabbing another book from his pile. "We have to stab it in the heart."

Chloe smirked. "I hope you're up on your knife throwing, Naman - because that's probably about as close as we're going to get to it."

The screen to the message came up, though the advertisement she expected to see didn't come. Instead she saw only this:

_Dear Ms. Sullivan,_

_You are in my every thought_

_In my every dream_

_I long to feel you next to me_

_To touch and taste the sweet tang of body_

_I follow you everywhere_

_Watch you wherever you go_

_And will love you till your dying day_

_When you turn, you may not see me_

_But I am there_

_I am always there_

_Your Secret Admirer_

The silence of the room surrounded her as she read the words over and over again. Rain started to fall outside, it's rhythm heard in every relentless, soft pitter-patter on the windows. Clark flipped the page of his book, his eyes drawn completely to the material inside. He didn't notice the fear on Chloe's face, nor the red color in her cheeks. So in tune with his notes, he neglected to even notice the slight rise of anxiety in her breathing. Everything drifted and fell into the blank consciousness of her mind, like the background of a nameless cartoon or television show. Only those words, darkened now by the intensity of her stare, held her attention severely in their malicious, horrid grasp.

When Chloe continued to stare at the computer screen after a few minutes, Clark finally gazed up at her still form. She had not moved at all. Slightly concerned, he asked, "Hey, Chloe. Everything all right?"

She blinked a few times before she finally turned to him. The worry on his face lined his features in deep curves, despite his naturally handsome features. Chloe really wanted to tell him this time. Tell him that some love-obsessed, stalker freak had been leaving her love notes for the past few days. Further still, she wanted him to know her suspicions, and the reason why the notes worried her so much. But not knowing for sure made her feel stupid for even having the desire to say anything to him. If anything, he would see the note and insist her other half had something to do with it.

But she just didn't feel so sure.

"Yeah," she said, closing the file so he couldn't see a word. "Everything's great. Just trying to remember the last time I watched _The Wolf Man_."

Clark pursed his lips. "Well, if you want, we can grab a cup of coffee from the Talon for awhile. Break away from this before we really lose our minds."

"Actually," Chloe said, "would you mind going to the Talon and getting some for both of us? I need the coffee desperately, but I really don't want to leave my train of thought right now."

He nodded, standing up. "Sure, I can do that," he replied, though slightly disappointed.

With Jimmy currently displaced for a while, Clark wanted to spend time alone with his best friend. More than that, he wanted to find the right time to tell her everything. Thoughts of spending Christmas with her, on that very comfy couch in his living room, sent pleasant chills through his body. Though they certainly couldn't spend the entire holiday on that couch, they could spend nights together in various places. He would never make her sleep in the loft with him during the winter, though he often did because the cold temperatures never affected him. But he would love to wake up in his own bed with her petite form nestled around him. Better yet, he wanted to wake up in _her _bed, with her beautiful body on top of him, straddling his waist. Her hips would pivot into him just enough to make him writhe and groan helplessly. And before he had the chance to fully awake, she would take him with one, long stride, engulfing him in a tight, luxurious warmth.

Then she would _move. _

"You know what I want, right?" Chloe asked suddenly.

Clark nodded absently before looking to her. _Right ... you're still here in your kitchen, feet away from Chloe ... feet that felt like miles ... and rather than lying on your back and watching her ride you, you're about to travel in the rain to get her a latte. To make her feel better. So she'll know, around you, she never has to worry about a thing._

"Yeah," he said. "I know."

Chloe smiled. "Good. I promise not to go werewolf hunting until you get back."

"I hope so," Clark replied, walking to the front door. He grabbed his jacket and slipped it on. "Shout for me if you need me."

"Clark, you'll be gone for only a microsecond. If I get into danger during that time, then I think I will have set a new world record."

"Humor me," he insisted lightly. Then he walked out into the dark, rainy evening. Time had passed very quickly while they investigated. His mother was due home from Metropolis later tonight; so much of the evening would be his alone with Chloe. Nothing would happen tonight, of course. But as he sped into the vast twilight before him, Clark realized just being with her was enough for him.

**0000000000000000**

**_to be continued ... _**


	11. Spell

**Episode Eleven: Spell**

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Lois really hated mornings. Standing outside in the crisp, fall air on a bright Sunday morning in October, she decided waking up early on the weekend for anything was foolish. With her busy schedule, between state senate appointments and writing articles for _The Inquisitor_, extra time should be reserved for sleep rather than wasting it at the hick town's lame festival. She had already spent most of her Saturday with Jimmy, riding the carnival rides that teetered due to the extensive amount of duck tape used for patchwork. The games had been somewhat amusing, though she could hardly remember the last time she spent ten dollars on a softball-sized basketball that lost air every time it hit the ground.

With a little effort, she could remember how their day together had been spent. Once they made their way through the streets of craft vendors, who all sold merchandise at twice the price they were worth, Lois and Jimmy had finally made their way into the main food area set up inside the park. Just a step into the circle of food vendors had made her stomach roll with discomfort, and she wondered how so many people could enjoy this prideful display of small town life. By the time they reached the edge of the circle on the other side, Lois was ready to go back to her apartment where the nasty smell of charred hot dogs would not be so repulsive.

Luckily for her, Jimmy had been called back to Metropolis, allowing her to leave him without feeling guilty. He was a decent guy, and if her cousin had to be hooked up with someone right now, Jimmy would certainly be her second choice.

But not her first.

The poor guy had sent countless messages to Chloe throughout the day. He missed her next to him while they walked through the streets; just as Lois was sure Chloe felt the same. Regardless, Chloe stayed away, determined to investigate the case as much as possible before the next day. Sunday they all promised to drop their workloads to hang out with one another, though Lois didn't feel she could possibly go through the festival a second, excruciating time.

Apparently by Jimmy's call from work, neither could he. Regretfully, he called Chloe and told her the bad news. He promised to spend more time with her next week to make up for his unscheduled absence. Though thoughtful, Lois knew why Chloe wanted him there. She wanted Jimmy to be apart of _the gang, _and to feel comfortable around her friends. Because Jimmy left for a case, even in the middle of a lame-ass festival, the weekend now had a sour undertone for Chloe, especially when she worked so hard to set it up.

Though, unbeknownst to Chloe, Jimmy, or Clark, this interesting situation gave Lois a brilliant idea to make everyone happy. At least, those she cared for the most.

Lois sighed heavily, wrapping her arms around her body a little tighter to ward off the chill. She put on a winter jacket to walk through the brisk air this morning, despite the weatherman's reassurance that the temperate would rise past sixty degrees today. At the moment, Lois realized she could have actually used another layer. She considered running back up to her apartment to put on another sweater, but thought better of it when she glanced to her watch irritably. They had promised to meet Clark at the Town Fire Hall for a fundraiser breakfast at nine, which left she and Chloe with only five minutes to walk there. But Chloe still had not come down from the apartment, making Lois both worried and aggravated with her cousin's unusual tardiness.

Then the door opened behind her.

Lois looked back to Chloe as she came out, wearing only a green fall jacket and a heavy sweater underneath.

"After all that time, that's all you're wearing? By your overtime, I thought you might be knitting yourself a sweater."

Chloe shrugged as they started to walk in the direction of the Fire Hall a few blocks down. "Clark and I didn't finish until late last night," she reminded, yawning slightly to prove her exhaustion.

Lois smiled softly, biting her tongue to say what she wanted - _care to elaborate, my sweet cousin?_ "Oh, I forgot, you didn't get in until after three. What were two doing anyway? Nothing suspicious, I hope?"

"Lois, don't even start the third degree. You know I'm happy with Jimmy," she argued.

"Doesn't mean you stop window shopping, does it?"

Chloe nudged Lois in the arm. "There is nothing going on between me and Clark."

"Whatever you say," Lois conceded, though not without a knowing smile.

Ahead of them, the Fire Hall came into view. People were already lined up outside, waiting to buy a ticket. The fundraiser supported the Fire Hall, as well as a chosen charity for the year. This year the firemen chose the American Cancer Society, because one of the local firemen had lost their battle to the disease back in March. Because of the tragedy, people made the extra effort to come, so the breakfast seemed far more crowded this year than in years past. Despite the swell of extra people, Clark had arrived at the breakfast earlier enough to buy tickets and save three seats. So when Lois and Chloe came close enough to the door, they saw his outstretched hand waving in the far corner of the truck room inside.

Once they made their way past the people and approached their reserved table, Clark stood from his seat.

"Hey," he greeted, smiling.

Clark looked just as exhausted as his partner in investigation. His eyes, just like Chloe's, looked strained and bloodshot from their hours spent wading through papers and files. According to Chloe, they also spent half the night on the living room couch brainstorming suspects and scenarios, banking ideas off of each other like table tennis. Though Lois waited to hear the details of a random kiss, or heated touch on a thigh (or someplace better), Chloe indicated nothing of the sort. Their time seemed entirely platonic, if not a little playful by the end of their tiresome night. But nothing more.

_We'll see, _Lois thought quietly.

Chloe hooked her purse over the back of the chair across from Clark. "Have you eaten yet?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No. I waited for you two."

Lois walked up to him, slapping his shoulder lightly. "Great, Smallville. Then let's eat, shall we?"

"Eager, Lois?" he asked, amused.

"Well, pancakes burned on a dirty grill outside are enough to make any girl hungry."

Chloe smirked. "Lois, come on, they've been doing this for years. I'm sure small town health regulations are just as severe as those in the city."

"And that scares me a little," Lois admitted. They walked towards the serving table. Metal trays with small candles placed underneath for warmth held the pancakes, as well as scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausage. Lois picked up a plate from the stack just before the first metal tray. "Have you been in Mario's Italian Kitchen lately? I don't think you would find quite the same meatball in Italy as you do in that restaurant."

Over the course of the next half hour, the three ate their breakfast with minimal conversation. Naturally they spoke of the case. But they also spoke of other, unimportant subjects such as the Metropolis Sharks football game today, or how beautiful the trees looked this time of year. Lois chimed in with her usual disdain, reminding all three that the leaves, though beautiful, were actually dead. Chloe merely shook her head at her dear cousin, though not without a slight, knowing smile. Conversation aside, Chloe did notice something else; Clark never took his eyes off her. Surely he gazed down at his food once and awhile, and certainly he glanced to Lois while she spoke. But the rest of the time he gazed only at her, determined to remember every small curve, and every small imperfection shone in her skin and features. Though Chloe should feel uncomfortable under Clark's intense study, especially when the press of Jimmy's lips was still so fresh on her own, nothing made her happier.

Lois gulped the last of her orange juice with one last swig. Then she stood, plate clean, and buttoned her winter jacket; the same she chose to keep on throughout the breakfast due to the lack of sufficient heat in the room. Both Clark and Chloe looked to her curiously, surprised she had eaten in such a rush. The plan was to spend the day together, just the three of them now that Jimmy had left. But Lois had no wish to be a third wheel, especially when she had experienced enough small town festivities to last her a lifetime. The world around her needed a slight fix by her matchmaking hand, and she would just be in the way if she stayed a minute longer.

Today ... well, today was for them.

"Lois, where're you going? I thought this was a trio," Chloe said.

Lois pushed in her chair. "Actually, I think I've maxed out my lucidness for a Sunday morning. I'm going back to bed."

Clark forked the last bite of his pancake. "Lois, you don't have to leave. I promise I'll be nice to you the entire time if you stay."

"Believe it or not, Clark, my decision has nothing to do with you. If I want to finish my latest article for _The Inquisitor_, then I better bypass the second day of fun."

"Will we see you at the dance, at least?" Chloe asked.

Every year Smallville ended their Fall Festival weekend events with a dance under the stars. Tonight would certainly be chilly for the event, but they have never once postponed because of weather. It even snowed one year, and the townspeople stayed just to say they danced with their love under falling snow. For someone who wore four layers just to breakfast, the dance tonight was the last place Lois wanted to be. Yet for the chance to see the harvest of her efforts, she planned to go. By tonight, she hoped her presence went completely unnoticed.

"Yeah, I think I can tear myself away from my warm apartment for a few hours. I'll meet you two there tonight - if the cold hasn't frozen you yet," Lois promised.

Clark nodded. "Okay, we'll see you then."

Lois gave both of them a soft smile, then headed towards the doors still congested with people. When she left them finally, her steps into the cold making her breath form crystals in the air, she didn't even think to look back. She didn't need to.

------------

Once Lois left the two of them alone, Chloe gazed down into her half -eaten eggs a little sheepishly. She had spent all this time trying to make this weekend special for her and Jimmy. Though she enjoyed dates with him, and walking the streets of Metropolis on a cold, fall night with his arm around her shoulders, Chloe also wanted to come to events like this with a new pride in her step. Rather, a sense of having moved on with her life since the last time she came to this festival. Friends from her past in Smallville would see her with Jimmy, and perhaps find she had matured and grown from the blonde reject who used to spend all her nights in _The Torch_ office finishing deadlines, pining over the same boy year after year. The boy she could never have.

Despite the mess in her plans, however, Chloe couldn't help but find amusement in her misfortune. This time last year she and Clark attended the charity breakfast, and sat across from each other in the very same seats. Of course, Lana was here last year, as well, and sat on Clark's right. This year, Chloe really wanted Jimmy beside her. Not just for breakfast, or for the bonfire a few nights ago. But for everything.

Of course, she understood why her boyfriend had to leave. Like her, he had a career to chase after. If she were given the opportunity to work with high profile reporters, and possibly have something published on the front page of the Daily Planet, Chloe wouldn't hesitate a second to drop everything to participate. Even with Jimmy's ignorance, he did have a talent in photography, which had only improved since they first met a few years back. It was no wonder, with the convenient absence of the paper's main photographer, why he was offered extra legwork to help add to his portfolio.

Yet the questions remained. Was there an astronomical reason why Jimmy couldn't come? Or why she was making more out of his excusable absence than she should? It was only a weekend, after all. By tomorrow morning it would be over, gone forever, and remembered only as a moment in time. The rest of the week would go on the same as usual. The case would take some more of her free time, but not a lot. She would still go out with Jimmy almost every night, anxiously taking in the glow of the bright Metropolis lights while in love. And rather than just go to his apartment and crash on his couch, Chloe could actually see herself going to bed with him. All her reservations would fade into nothing, and would hold her back from her life no further. She could wake up in his arms every morning until forever, reminded of their lovemaking by his kiss, by the warmth emanating from his body into her own, and by the pleasurable ache between her thighs.

Instead of all of that, she found herself gazing up into Clark's eyes for the seventh festival in a row, with no Jimmy beside her and no promise she would forget the hurt of his absence in the morning. And she wondered if fate was trying to tell her something.

"So," she said, smirking irritably. "Tell me why you and I happily divulge ourselves year after year in small town charm, and no one else cares to join us?"

Clark laughed, shaking his head. "I don't know. I guess we have good taste."

"I guess."

"Are you still upset about Jimmy?"

"Not really. I've called him at the eleventh hour to cancel a date before, and I know he hates it. I guess it's my turn to be on the other end for once," she replied. "Maybe it's irrational, but I really wanted to give him an all exclusive, leave no skeletons in the closet, backstage pass to my past in Smallville. Show him everything from the field where I was buried alive by one of Smallville's finest, to the newspaper office that helped me become an honorary trustee of the Crow Society of Rejects."

Clark listened quietly to her confession. He had never known her to be prideful of her upbringing in Smallville, though the cynicism and sarcasm was nothing new. From her words, she sounded like a person craving to share something of herself with her significant other. Like peeling back the crinkled pages of a good book, Chloe wanted to show her boyfriend the person she used to be. Actually, to do so was a very intimate experience. And for Jimmy to miss it ... well, it made Chloe's irritable reaction sound plausible, even if Jimmy did have a reason to leave.

With a sudden smile, he quickly ate the rest of his pancake in a flash, making even Chloe glare at him in wonderment as he mowed it down in seconds. When finished, she mused at him playfully, surprised he would come so close to using his powers so openly in public. He merely smiled and stood up, prompting Chloe to follow his lead.

"There's still the two of us," he said, mouth still full of pancake. "I think our friendship could handle a good day of small town fun, don't you?"

Chloe smiled wide and reached for her coat hung on the back of her chair. "You're on, farm boy. Lead the way. As long as I don't have to follow a trail of pancake crumbs."

Clark swallowed the rest of the pancake quickly. Then he grabbed his own coat and slipped it across his shoulders. For once in his life, Chloe noticed he had foregone the red jacket for a black sweater and blue jeans. Surprisingly, he looked incredibly handsome, even in the dreary and loud Smallville Volunteer Fire Hall truck room. People continued to speak loudly around them, but Chloe only heard the beat of her heart, rising for the day to come. Strangely, her aggravation towards Jimmy had vanished. This day was only for her and Clark. And maybe that's what fate wanted from them all along.

For the rest of the day Chloe and Clark walked side by side on the decorated streets of Smallville. The fog finally lifted by the lunch hour, giving way for the sun to shine brightly in the dark blue sky. Neither of them noticed the slight rise in temperature, however. So drawn in by the activities of the festival, nothing on the outside of its world could successfully break through. Chloe's cell phone vibrated at her hip half a dozen times throughout the morning. She looked only once to see the identity of the caller so eagerly trying to catch her attention. One glance at the name was enough, and she promptly turned her phone off completely. He could wait until later.

All morning they spent their time walking towards the nucleus of the festival located in the park, in the very center of town. On the way they stopped at various craft vendors to gaze at merchandise. Most of it was handmade by the booth's patron, from woodworking to oil paintings. Though some booths were tempting, both Clark and Chloe refrained from buying anything this soon. So much more lay in store further down the road, and both wanted to save their money for what might come. Chloe did come close to buying quite a few times, but promptly remembered her current living situation, which was also a reason to hold tightly onto her limited funds. With the Metropolis University dorms closed for the semester, and her apartment quickly becoming too expensive to hold, Chloe would soon find herself back in Smallville on Lois' couch. Every cent counted now.

By early afternoon they finally made their way into the park, which had rows and rows of more craft venders. Interweaved between them, however, were games of chance, food, and events. Some local farmers actually set up booths for people to see animals, such as pigs, cows, and a few horses. Though everyone in Smallville has seen their share of farm animals, they were brought here to compete in the contests. Pigs raced around circles for Oreos while spectators watched with amusement. Cows were compared to award the most plump and healthy. People could ride horses for a small fee, or ride in the back of a hay cart driven by a horseman. Chloe hated to ride horses, but Clark tried every year to make her ride one. This year he hoped to succeed.

As they approached the famous farm animal section of the festival, Clark turned to Chloe expectedly. "Do you want to try it?" he asked casually, taking a bite of his hot dog.

Chloe smirked knowingly. "So a horse can throw me on my ass, where I will land fatefully in a grimy mudhole? I don't think so. It took three showers in scalding water before I felt I had efficiently chipped off the first layer from my skin."

"Come on, Chloe. I want to see you on one again."

"Why are you so obsessed with this?" she asked. She tore a section off her powdered funnel cake and ate it.

"Because your fear of them is like ... fearing water. Especially in Smallville."

"I'm not afraid of them. I'm afraid of sucking liquid food through a straw for eight months because of them."

Clark ate the rest of his hot dog and threw his napkin into the nearest wastebasket. Taking her hand, he suggested, "What if I went on it with you? I mean, how much danger can you be in if I'm there with you?"

Chloe eyed him suspiciously. "This isn't like the time you and Pete promised to follow me into the creepy and old McCrane mansion, is it? You two let me walk in there, then vanished once I had ventured so far that I couldn't find my way out. It took me three hours to finally find an exit, while you and Pete rattled chains and banged on the walls until I screamed bloody murder. I lost good years off my life because of you two."

"This isn't like that," Clark promised. "Besides, we were trying to make a horror movie then."

"Ah, that's right. I forgot about your Wes Craven fetish. And to preserve realism, you used me as your Drew Barrymore... and didn't tell me."

"Well, if I could bruise I would still have scars from the pipe you hit me with."

Chloe shrugged casually, smiling wide. "You deserved it. Should teach you better than to dress up as Michael Myers for Halloween and expect anything less than the wrath of your intended, though pretend, victim."

Clark shook his head and gave the horses another look. A total of four horses were set up at the very edge of the park, with trainers standing next to each one. Each horse differed from the others. One looked completely white save for a few brown spots along its sides. The horse next to him was completely black, while the other two were varying shades of brown. Lines of people had formed already, mostly children looking for the first horse ride of their life. The horse rides had always been a popular attraction, because though farms lingered across the entire region, very few townspeople had the chance to ride.

Squeezing her hand tight, he glanced back to her hopefully. "Come on, Chloe. No more excuses. I promise I'll go with you."

Chloe blushed slightly, feeling her resolve melting underneath his eyes. Last year he hadn't offered to go with her, and probably because a smoky brunette stood next to him. This year he had no trouble offering to be her lucky charm, though the problem was now hers. Jimmy probably wouldn't like to hear she had gone on a horse ride with her best friend - a best friend who looked incredibly handsome today. The same best friend she kissed passionately in the middle of Dark Thursday a few months ago. Clark Kent ... the best friend she's been in love with since they met.

"Okay," she whispered, already regretting her decision.

But Clark gave her no time to change her mind. He tugged her towards the shortest line, knowing it was best to get her on a horse as quickly as possible. The white horse had gone out with a child and his mother just a few seconds before, and only a handful of people waited to go next. After a short wait, watching those in front take their turn, the time for them finally came. Chloe squeezed his hand so hard he could almost feel the pain searing through his knuckles. She, one of the coolest people he had ever met, was very nervous.

"Ready?" he asked, moving behind her.

The trainer smiled and held onto the horse's bit so it wouldn't move. "Go ahead."

Chloe glanced to Clark helplessly. "I don't know, Clark ..."

Clark reached his hand to her back, nudging her forward lightly. "You'll be fine."

With both the trainer and Clark watching expectantly, Chloe turned back to the horse wearily. There was no way out of this. Truthfully, she had nothing rational to fear with Clark so close to her. He would catch her if something went wrong. Not to mention, he did know horses very well because of his time on the farm, and his time with Lana. If anyone could help her gain control over her fear, Clark would be it.

Because the trainer held the white horse steady, she needed little help to climb into the saddle. Once there, Clark quickly climbed in behind her, slipping his arms loosely around her waist from behind as they gathered their bearings. The trainer stepped forward to give Chloe the reigns, which she took hesitantly. Even with Clark so close, she could still feel her stomach clenching tensely. Perhaps Clark sensed the rise in her anxiety, because he casually flattened his palm on her stomach and pressed his chest heatedly against her back. Clark then placed his hand over hers gripping the reigns so tight.

And with lips to her ear, he whispered softly, "Trust me."

The trainer led them out onto the street once certain they were ready. Within the first three seconds Clark let go of his hold on the reigns, leaving Chloe mostly in control. Though the trainer guided the animal the entire way, Chloe still felt a sense of accomplishment when the horse continued to walk in one direction. On the first time she rode a horse all by herself, the animal took her in every direction save the one she wanted. The second time the horse jerked her off before she even got into the saddle. Needless to say, so far her third experience on a horse seemed to rate far better.

As her anxiety finally began to fade, Chloe discovered her mind centered on something she didn't expect. Or rather, on someone. Suddenly the rest of the world didn't matter, and she concentrated only on the strong arms around her waist, and the tickle of warm breath on the back of her neck. He was so close to her. If not for the constant clip clop of the horse's hooves on the pavement below, Chloe might have actually closed her eyes reverently, surrendering completely into Clark's presence. He felt so strong, so powerful - yet so warm and inviting. Someone she could imagine spending a night with under the stars, or next to a roaring fire.

_Lovers in the night, succumbing to one another as if it was meant to be. _

Then something familiar, something she tried to forget the moment Jimmy came back into her life, surged back into her heart, and she realized she wanted to be nowhere else but in Clark's arms.

_**0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**_

From the horse ride they proceeded to the other games and events. Chloe watched Clark devour three pies in less than twenty minutes, giving him the gold star for the pie-eating contest. He came back to her with smashed grapes smeared all over his mouth, chin, and neck. And when he tried to pull her into a messy hug, Chloe snagged the full water bottle from her bag and soaked him with it. Laughing hard, he pulled her playfully into his embrace anyway, now wet and stained in purple, trapping her tightly against his body. Staring hard into each other's eyes, they came within a few inches of sharing a stolen kiss. But the rise of crowd noise from the water balloon fight a few yards away reminded them of where they were and why they were here. And whom they were promised to.

After Clark raced home to change into something clean and dry, a heavy button down shirt and jeans, they decided to eat dinner at Charlie's Famous Beef N' Wick tent in the center of the park. Everyone who came to the festival made it a point to visit the famous beef eatery at least once during his or her stay. Clark and Chloe wanted to make it their last meal before the festival closed down. Apparently, by the amount of people waiting in line, others felt the same way. It took an extra half hour to reach the counter to order, but they waited anyway. Both ordered a beef on kimmelwick and potato salad, which they ate while sitting on a small bench just outside the huge white tent. They spoke casually, but said nothing about the _almost kiss_ or the horse ride. Those two subjects were purposely sidestepped in their conversation, because neither knew how to combat the attraction that had arisen between them since.

When their dinner was through, Clark and Chloe headed to the last event; the dance. Twilight dipped the daylight sky into evening as they slowly walked through the festival vendors in the park to reach the street. People were already gathering in the middle of Main Street, where the dance was held every year. Rather than try to fit everyone in a tiny pavilion, or make them dance in the grass, the festival planners decided the street pavement to be the best place for the last event. The band was already setting up on the far side and under the large tent, which was used to cover most of the dance area in case of rain. Lanterns were stringed on the ceiling of the tent to give the event a more romantic feel. Tables were set up on the outside, with beer, wine, and food for the participants to enjoy until the end of the night.

Lois arrived a few minutes after Clark and Chloe. She searched for the two of them immediately, and found Chloe, now wearing only her red, low-neck sweater, standing alone next to the drink table. The air had grown much warmer since that morning, but Lois still came wearing a winter jacket. Chloe also held a full glass of cider in her hand as she looked out at the dancers on the dance floor. The band played mostly country music, covers from Garth Brooks to Tim McGraw. Currently they played a faster song, one Lois didn't recognize due to her infrequent listen of this style of music. The rest of the townspeople, however, loved it and began to line dance.

Thankfully, Chloe had not moved from her spot since Lois spotted her a few seconds earlier. Trying to search for her cousin in this crowd would have been almost impossible. Nevertheless, the people still created quite a barrier between her and Chloe, forcing Lois to physically push her way through to reach her cousin before she could escape.

When she finally reached Chloe, coming from the right, Lois called out, "Where's Smallville?"

Chloe turned immediately and smiled at her cousin. "Hey. I thought you were going to cop out, claiming the resurgence of a extra-terrestrial rain forest disease in South America needed your expert attention."

Lois rolled her eyes. "Give me more credit than that."

Chloe took a sip of her cider. "Well, as long as you're here now, I guess it doesn't matter you chewed through the barb wire earlier."

"Did Clark leave?" Lois asked again, glancing from left to right, praying her plan worked while she was away.

"He saw some people he knew on his way for two pieces of apple pie. On nights like this, he's treated like a candidate for Mayor."

Lois looked straight through the crowd and found Clark's tall form nestled in between quite a few people. Though he congenially spoke with every person, she could tell he wanted to escape. Turning to the beverages behind her, Lois chose and pored herself a sweet red wine before she glanced back to a very quiet Chloe. "So how did it go today?" she asked, unable to suppress her curiosity any further.

Chloe shrugged, evading her cousin's eyes. "Great. Just like every year, with every craft and pumpkin in the same spot."

"Nothing exciting?"

"Well, Clark did make me ride a horse."

"Oh? How did he ever manage that?"

Chloe sipped her cider once more, and let the tart flavor tingle on her tongue. "He's very persuasive."

Lois glanced back to Clark, who finally made it to the food table. He grabbed two slices of apple pie, both on a small paper plate, and tried to hurry his way back through the crowd. People tried to stop him a second time, but he merely said hello and kept going. She didn't blame him, really. Whenever they walked through Smallville together, people came up to Clark almost all the time. Lois believed it had to do with the recent death of his father, the tragedy now only nine months old. Clark dealt with the attention better now, having made his way through his own sadness with just a few noticeable scars. But the people could still be a nuisance from time to time.

Clark finally saw Lois and Chloe standing next to the drink table, and smiled. He shimmied his way through the rest of the people and walked towards them.

"Sorry, Lois, I didn't know you were here. I would've brought you a slice, too," Clark replied, handing Chloe a slice of pie.

Lois shrugged casually. "No problem. I can get one later."

Chloe smiled as she took her piece. "Don't wait too long. Pie-eating is like the Super Bowl to Smallvillians."

Clark smirked, taking a bite out of his own slice. "That's not true," he argued lightly, remembering his recent win in the contest.

"It is, too, Clark. You _were_ a pie filling by the end of that contest. The same with the beef on wick. I think the mountains moved while we were waiting in line," Chloe replied sarcastically, turning her chin up to him.

"You love to exaggerate, Miss Sullivan," Clark whispered, with less antagonism than affection. He stepped a little closer to her. "Besides, we did eat, didn't we?"

"Sure," Chloe admitted. "But any longer, and maybe we would've been suspects in the cannibalism case."

Clark shook his head. "You are relentless."

Lois watched silently as the two bickered back and forth. Though they seemed to be in an argument, the space between them decreased by a few centimeters with every word. And maybe they didn't notice, but Clark's hand came very close to Chloe's waist more than a few times during the conversation. They acted very much like a dating couple, but without the relationship. Recalling how she left them this morning, Lois wondered exactly what happened today that dramatically changed the air between her two best friends. Even more so, as she watched Clark and Chloe laughing so intimately, standing so close, Lois would swear the two of them were sleeping together. Without knowing that Jimmy was in the picture, she would have bet on it.

_Did they sneak away to some secluded barn and have hot, sweaty sex when no one was looking?_

Clark walked away from them for a moment, taking Chloe's empty plastic plate with him.

Lois stepped closer to Chloe, and both watched Clark move to the table a few yards away from them. He threw their garbage away in the nearest trashcan, but was quickly caught by Mr. Williams, Smallville's local mechanic, before he could walk back. Lois watched with amusement as Mr. Williams engaged Clark in conversation, successfully tying him up for a moment. Giving her the chance to talk to Chloe in private.

"So what's really going on, Chlo?" Lois asked, looking to her.

"What do you mean?"

Lois gestured to Clark. "I mean between you and the mayor."

"What?" she asked genuinely.

"You two act like you just returned from a wild romp in the nearest hay loft," Lois said, hiding her inner delight.

This time Chloe rolled her eyes. "It's nothing. Really. We just had a good day together."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Chloe insisted lightly. "We had fun. No end of the world, no Lex Luthor ...".

"No Jimmy."

Chloe glanced to her cousin in mild shock. Though she felt surprised to hear the words, Lois did have a point. If Jimmy had been here Chloe would have spent the majority of her time with him. Certainly Clark would have been with them, but Jimmy would have paid for her beef on wick. When walking down the street, Chloe would have held his hand the entire way. On meeting with other people, she would have introduced him as her boyfriend. Jimmy didn't enjoy crafts, but she would have dragged him through it all anyway, despite his groans of boredom. Sooner or later he would surrender to her, listening to her every word as she retold stories of her past spent here. They would share a random kiss, a random hug, or even a stare of pure desire.

Though, there would not have been a horse ride. Jimmy hated them almost as much as she did.

_No horse ride with strong arms hugging her waist, the blue sky above, and the tingle of sweet, warm breath against her ear. _

"Jimmy would have hated it," Chloe said, rationalizing her time with Clark. "What were Clark and I supposed to do? Avoid each other and walk on the opposite sides of the street the entire time?"

Lois smiled knowingly. "Chloe, if you were with anyone but Clark, I wouldn't suspect a thing. But you two ... you shared a very heated moment awhile back. There's still unresolved tension there. Spending a quiet day in the country could really bring those feelings to the front burner, no matter how lame this town festival might be."

"I'm with Jimmy," Chloe replied assuredly, both for Lois and herself. "And Clark and I are just friends. It's what we've always been. Until the Underworld is shut down by snow, there is no way the official status of our relationship will change."

Lois caught a glimpse of Clark walking back towards them, finally free of Mr. Williams and any other concerned townspeople. Lowering her voice, she conceded irritably, "Fine, Chloe. Whatever you say." Then gesturing to Clark, she added, "Just make sure he knows that, too."

Chloe glanced over at Clark as he approached. Both smiled at each other, making Lois suddenly feel like a very annoying third wheel. Regardless of what Chloe told her, Lois knew what feelings had been conjured up today. It didn't take a PHD in Love to see the sparks between these two could light up New York City for a year. Lois knew how Clark felt, but could only sense Chloe's feelings from her expressions and the tone of her words. Oddly, Lois had a slightly larger window into Clark's heart right now than she had into Chloe's - a complete opposite of the usual.

"Mr. Williams," Clark said, stepping up to them. "He used to fix my dad's old truck when a casual patch wouldn't do."

Lois sipped her wine. "You seem to be quite the rock star tonight."

Clark shrugged, placing his hands in his front pockets timidly. "I spend so much time on the farm, I hardly come into town anymore."

"I can see why," Lois chided with a smile, glancing to the line dancers in front of the stage. "Something like that would make anyone run."

The music shifted from Garth Brooks to Toby Keith, though the fast tempo remained the same. Line dancers changed their routine just a little, minus a step or two in one spot and a few extra added in another. Because the dancers were so in sync with one another, Lois couldn't tell if someone was having trouble keeping the pace. Despite her previous aversion of anything to do with country music, she had trouble looking away from the attractive flow of the dancers, some of which were adorned completely in cowboy hats and boots.

"It almost looks fun," Chloe said next to her.

Clark smiled wide, glancing back to her. "Want to try it?"

Chloe scrunched her face a little, hesitating. "I don't know ... it looks kind of hard to pick up."

"I don't think so," he said. "Not once we get the hang of it."

She hesitated for a second longer, pursing her lips with amusement. Then she turned and placed her cider on the table behind them. "Okay, Clark, as long as you don't step on my feet. I don't want to crawl into work tomorrow."

Clark stretched his hand to her. "Come dance with me, Miss Sullivan."

Just as she took his hand, Chloe looked back to Lois hopefully. "Coming with us?"

Lois shook her head, desperately suppressing the tender smile from forming on her lips. "No, this dance is for you two. Besides, I'll just end up with boot marks all up my back."

Chloe nodded, but couldn't respond any further before Clark tugged her playfully into the direction of the dance floor. She laughed a little more when they reached the dance line, taking their position at the end. Though the first few minutes of dancing proved challenging, Chloe started to pick up the routine rather easily. Clark, on the other hand, continued to have trouble, no matter how many times he studied the movements of those around him. Despite his super powers, nothing could help him look even the slightest bit graceful, and he wondered if dancing like this in front of Chloe was such a good idea after all.

His idea or not, Clark started to feel frustrated by his lack of coordination with something seemingly so simple. After he thought he had the first few moves memorized, his feet then tangled and he nearly fell into Chloe, almost sending them helplessly to the ground. Luckily his speed prevented a complete collapse, though he still ended up in Chloe's arms, cheeks flush with embarrassment.

For a moment they just stood there in the embrace, surprised to have ended up in such a position. Only a few people around them noticed they had stopped, and fewer still caught the uncomfortable tension rising between them. Chloe smiled sheepishly and laughed, pushing away from him lightly. "I said you couldn't use my feet, Clark, no matter how much you beg," she chided, breaking through the awkwardness.

Clark shook his head. "I just can't get this."

She backed up into him slightly, looking over her shoulder to see his face. "Just follow my movements."

"Um," he mumbled, noting how close her ass was to his ... _front_. Was this line dancing? "I can just skip it. Wait for the next one."

"You will skip it if you don't start dancing. Seriously, Clark, just do what I do," she insisted, turning so she was side by side with him. Chloe continued to follow the flow with ease, strangely in tune with the style. She watched with amusement as Clark tried desperately to follow her lead, but looking no better than a man gliding slowly through a children's wade pool. His height only made him look more goofy, causing Chloe to laugh lightly at the amusing sight. Clark was always fun, even if he didn't think so.

However, just as Chloe shifted closer to help him some more, the song changed dramatically. The song changed to a ballad.

**_Dancin' in the dark  
_**_**Middle of the night  
****Takin' your heart**_

And holdin' it tight 

The line dance immediately crumbled into more than a dozen pairs of people. Though some dancers left the dance floor completely, most stayed, anxious for the chance to share a moment with someone special. Clark and Chloe stayed, as well, though not for the same reasons. They stayed because neither knew what to do next; both fearing one move might be the wrong one. As the music began to play in the background, it's full sound barely held in by the poor acoustics of the white tent, Clark just stood motionless in the middle of the other dancers, staring hard into Chloe's eyes. Searching for permission. Waiting for the gate to open.

**_Emotional touch  
_****_Touchin' my skin  
_**_**And askin' you to do  
****What you've been doin' all over again**_

Chloe didn't make him wait too long. She offered her hand to him with a soft, friendly smile, which he grasped instantly, pulling her slowly into his arms. Though her eye level came just to his shoulders, she didn't let the obvious height difference stop her from looking up into his face. Just as he didn't let her petite form stop him from staring down endlessly into hers. They swayed back and forth to the music, and though Clark had no dance skill for faster songs, the slow songs he could do well. _Very well,_ Chloe thought with a blush, casting her eyes back down to his chest. Then she drew closer to the curve of his shoulder, taken by his wonderful scent, which consisted of Calvin Klein, the smell of burning wood, and something entirely his own.

**_Oh, it's a beautiful thing  
_****_Don't think I can keep it all in  
_**_**I just gotta let you know  
****What it is that won't let me go**_

**_It's your love  
_****_It just does somethin' to me  
_**_**It sends a shock right through me  
****I can't get enough**_

**_And if you wonder  
_**_**About the spell I'm under  
****It's your love**_

_Clark felt her close the distance_ between them by a few centimeters. Though they were not quite in full body contact, as many of the other dancers around them, he could still feel the heat emanating from her body. She was so close to him, yet there was space between them that might as well have been a mile rather than a few inches. The song swelled a little in the air, enough to encourage him to close the gap by dropping both arms to her waist. She didn't back away like he expected, but rather slipped both hands to the middle of his chest. After a long moment, perhaps one of contemplation, Chloe finally slid her hands up to grip his shoulders and rested her head on his chest.

**_Better than I was  
_****_More than I am  
_**_**And all of this happened  
****By takin' your hand**_

**_And who I am now  
_****_Is who I wanted to be  
_****_And now that we're together  
_**_**I'm stronger than ever  
****I'm happy and free**_

Against her ear, Chloe could hear the strong beat of his heart. It raced just a little faster than usual, though she knew why. The material of his black sweater felt soft along her cheek, a clear contrast to the hard muscle underneath. His hands gripped her waist leisurely, assuredly, before moving a little further up her back. With the change of his hands, he also drifted his head down, burying his face in her hair. She could feel him smelling the aroma of her shampoo, the scent of her soft perfume. Just the simple, sensual act alone made a tiny shiver run up her back, which lit the hot embers under every nerve in her body. His hands rubbed her back a little more, and he lowered his head further down, nuzzling her neck and her shoulder. And suddenly he felt _amazing _against her, moving with her like a hesitant, strong lover.

**_Oh, it's a beautiful thing  
_****_Don't think I can keep it all in, no  
_**_**And if you asked me why I changed  
****All I gotta do is say your sweet name**_

Clark smiled softly in the curve of her shoulder, because he could feel her responding to him, moving with him. She hugged him tighter each second they danced as one, her grip on his arms becoming stronger by the second. Then to his surprise, Chloe turned her head up and delicately traced her lips along his jaw line, sliding her hand up to cup the nape of his neck as she did so. He closed his eyes the moment her breath caressed his skin. Nothing had ever felt so sweet or so lovely; enough to make him melt helplessly in her arms.

**_It's your love  
_****_It just does somethin' to me  
_**_**It sends a shock right through me  
****I can't get enough**_

**_And if you wonder  
_****_About the spell I'm under  
_**_**It's your love  
****Oh, baby**_

As the song neared its end, Clark pulled away just enough to gaze into her eyes. Everything else around them fell away, creating a world just for them. Only the words of the song were powerful enough to break through. Chloe dropped her hand down to his cheek and caressed it gently with her thumb, lost in his stare. Clark swallowed hard when he felt the instinctive tug to give in. And before he could stop himself, he lowered his lips close to hers, just as Chloe gestured to meet him halfway. Less than an inch apart, they lingered there for a few moments, both afraid to go any further and both searching the other for something more.

The longer they stayed motionless, the less certain Chloe felt. She began to draw away as a result, trying desperately to remember the reason why she couldn't do this.

**_Oh, it's a beautiful thing  
_****_Don't think I can keep it all in  
_**_**I just gotta let you know  
****What it is that won't let me go**_

But Clark wouldn't let her escape so easily. He closed the distance between their lips the moment she started to pull away, and kissed her. She immediately hesitated against him, surprised and unwilling to concede to their passion. Her fight, however, crumbled the second her instincts took hold.

_**It's your love  
It just does somethin' to me  
**__**It sends a shock right through me  
I can't get enough**_

Her hand on his cheek slid back towards the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. He groaned a little into her mouth when the passion grew, and when he felt the slide of her tongue along his lips. He opened underneath her; intoxicated by the apple taste on her tongue from the pie, as well as by the desire she stirred inside of him. Just another second longer, and Clark knew he would have to quickly find a secluded spot outside of town for them to continue.

**_And if you wonder  
_****_About the spell I'm under  
_****_It's your love  
_**_**It's your love  
****It's your love **_

_Maybe Make Out Point? ... No, no, that's where she and Jimmy liked to go ... no, some place different. Some place all their own. Some place where they didn't have to fear someone walking in on them. Some place where they could explore each other in great detail - slowly, sensually. A place where he didn't have to stifle her orgasmic cry with a passionate kiss. A place where he could end this tension and finally bury his cock deep inside of her ... and hold it there until the sun rose over the hills, cascading the grass in orange-ish rays, and the whispers of his name awoke him from his sleep. Where her morning, breathless kisses could rain on his skin, and where his arm would drape across her body, protecting her from the world. Keeping her just for him._

Yet Chloe finally found a way to break free.

She broke the kiss and pulled away from him completely, shocked by how far she allowed the dance to go. Clark, so surprised by her sudden moment, let her leave his arms without a struggle. And for a long moment they just stared at each other, again neither having any idea what to say. The world came back into focus, along with the noise and the crowds from the festival still going on around them. The song had long since ended, though dancers stayed for the sole purpose of watching the two of them kiss passionately. Actually, quite a few people continued to watch them even after they broke apart, and all were waiting for one of them to do or say something meaningful.

Finally Chloe started to back away, and Clark noticed the cloud of shame in her eyes.

"Chloe," he called hopefully, stepping towards her.

But she turned away from him and disappeared into the crowd.

Clark watched helplessly as she left, having no clue what to do next. Should he follow her? By the look on her face, she clearly wanted to be alone right now. But should he give her the chance? More than anything, he wanted to run to her, pull her back into his arms, and kiss her long and hard. Show her how much he needed her, and how he couldn't live without her touch. However, he also didn't want to push her, knowing she was just as likely to slap him and make him leave. Then his chances of being with her would really be stifled.

Taking a deep breath, he looked back through the crowd at a familiar face.

Lois stared right back at him, her obvious gestures clear and distinct. Her hands were pointing to the direction Chloe left in, and her lips mouthed words only he could hear – _Go get her! Run after her!_

Clark smiled wide at his friend. She was right. After such a passionate kiss, he needed to follow her if only to ensure what happened last time didn't happen again. He had no wish to find her two days later in the arms of another man, with their kiss lowered two notches on the scale of importance because of it. No, not this time. This time Chloe would know what it meant to him.

_**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**_

After he made his way through the crowd of people at the dance, Clark used his super vision to find her in the darkness. Chloe had already started walking down the street, back towards Lois' apartment at the Talon where she was staying the night while in Smallville. Because she was less than one hundred yards away, Clark sped to her in a millisecond worth of time, not hesitating in the least to show up beside her without any type of notice.

Chloe stepped back instinctively when he suddenly appeared, though any initial fear melted away the moment she recognized him. The loss of fear, however, gave way for an entirely different emotion; anger.

"Go away, Clark," she whispered. Her winter jacket, the one she shed earlier in the day, was back on and buttoned up to guard against the rapidly dropping temperatures. It had been so warm in the tent that Clark hardly noticed the change in the weather. Chloe also held on to the large teddy bear he won for her in the afternoon, only hours before this awkward confrontation. It felt more like a lifetime ago now.

She tried to push past him when he stepped in front of her, but he grabbed her arm before she had the chance to leave.

"No, I won't. Not until we discuss this."

Chloe jerked her arm away from his grip, and looked to him with eyes burning. "No, Clark ... please. I need time to think. Just ... leave me alone."

Clark shook his head. "No, Chloe ... I'm not letting you leave until you know how I feel."

"How you feel," she repeated plainly, sadly bemused. "Clark, since the moment you gave me the fifty cent tour of your loft in eighth grade, you've never felt anything for me. Even two passionate kisses later, I don't think it's changed. No matter what kind of romance novel you think we're in."

"That's not true."

"It is true, Clark. This train we're on will only run us off the track and kill us if we get off too late."

Clark stepped towards her and tried to reach for her hand, but she moved back from his grasp. Regardless, he said it anyway. "Chloe ... I ... I want to be with you."

She closed her eyes, sighing deeply. Sounds from the dance began to filter back into the atmosphere around them. The band started to play another country song - this time Johnny Cash. Meanwhile, Chloe debated on what she could say. Though Clark meant well, she found it difficult to believe him. Moreover, she was sure if she let this moment in time progress in the direction her heart wished, Chloe would find herself in Clark's bed tomorrow morning listening to him go on and on about the mistake they just made.

The latter was something she just could not bare.

"You think you do," Chloe whispered, lowering her eyes. After a long moment, she looked to him with more tears, hoping she was making the right choice. "Please, Clark, we need time. I need time."

Clark sucked in an irritable breath, wondering if he could let her escape. Though he stopped her from leaving to show her the depth of his love, he suddenly sensed doing so had been terribly premature after all. If Chloe really wanted time, then he had to give it to her. He had to. Pushing her would only make her back away from him further, so much so that he might never find her again. If he wanted this badly enough, he had to play by her rules.

"Okay," he murmured. However, he added with a soft, knowing smile, "But I'm not going away."

Chloe walked backwards from him, in the direction of Lois' apartment. For the last time that night they locked eyes with one another, neither wanting to look away. The desire in his eyes almost convinced her to break through the chains surrounding her heart. In another time, in another place, Chloe could almost envision the moment when she finally gave in. She would run to him and jump into his arms, then kiss him like she had never done so before. Lost in their love, they would search frantically for a place to fulfill all of their long-overdue desires. It might take them an entire week, or even a lifetime, to make up for all the time they wasted without each other.

But dreams rarely ever come true.

Taking one last look of him to burn into her memory, Chloe turned on her heel and walked away.

**000000000000000000000000**

_**to be continued **_


	12. Request

**A/N: **Thanks to all my readers for staying with this story. I'm hoping to post the entire thing by the end of Halloween night, so check in often for updates. I'm doing some editing as go, both for content and for grammer mistakes I missed the first time around, which is why it has taken me some time.

My other story, Stay With Me, I promise to return to and finish once I have posted this story in its entirety. Once Stay With Me is finished, I am uncertain if I will write much more Smallville - Clark/Chloe fiction. The reason I have struggled with Stay With Me is because I am finding it harder and harder to find my inspiration. My disdain for Smallville and its writers grows stronger by each episode, I hope the rest of you have seen the shadow of the shark within the contents of this season as I have. It's circling, and I honestly believe its only a matter of time.

On other matters, here is the next chapter. And more will be on its heels.

Thanks again. You have all been a wonderful inspiration for me.

**0000000000000000000000000000000000**

**Episode Twelve: Request**

**000000000000000000000000000000000**

Zachary Conner had disappeared.

Chloe hardly believed the news when she first heard it. Her Monday morning had started the same as usual, with both her annoying alarm and her daily shower. The latter of which had to be cold because her thoughts had yet let go of her time spent with Clark the day before. More than once during the night she awoke with more than just a tingle of want between her thighs, suddenly aware of where, or whom, her dreams had centered upon. It had been months and months since she dreamt of Clark in such a way. And never before had the sensations been so intense. It took extra effort, even with the cold water, to remember Clark was not in the shower with her, pleasuring her gently with his intimate caress until she peeked, shuddered, and fell boneless against him.

No ... none of it was real. When Jimmy phoned her the moment after she dressed, Chloe kept the conversation simple so he wouldn't suspect that her early morning thoughts, for the first time in a while, had not been on him in the least. Hopefully time would cure that. Time spent away from Clark Kent.

Her morning routine included a pit stop at the local beanery just a few storefronts down from her apartment. The first cup of coffee was always the most important, and today, especially, she needed the good stuff. Jimmy usually met her there for coffee, or sometimes breakfast, but today, to her insistence, they decided to wait until they saw each other at the Planet. He was sure to have twenty or more questions pertaining to her activities on Sunday, and no part of her wanted to try and answer them this early in the morning. No telling what she could accidentally say, and all because she didn't get the chance to consume her first, gourmet cup of coffee. Until she had her bearings, Jimmy would have to wait.

For the sake of their relationship, Jimmy would have to wait.

Luckily for both of them, he asked very little when they met up at her desk a half hour later. Actually, he acted like a man who didn't have to worry about his girlfriend's loyalties, and before last night Chloe believed that to be true, as well. She had no idea that a simple dance with Clark would arouse so many forgotten feelings for him inside of her. Worse yet, Clark seemed anxious to be with her. And though she truly wanted to believe him, she had so many obstacles in her life stopping her from saying yes. Jimmy was only part of the problem. Her past with Clark and his routine dismissal of her feelings harbored most of her worry. She had a good thing going with Jimmy, and giving it up to another guy who might disappoint her down the road was not the most desirable outcome.

Unfortunately, the two of them also still had a case to solve. And no matter what might be happening between them, Chloe needed Clark by her side. They have always worked well together in the past, even when feelings tried to make it difficult for their friendship.

When Clark finally arrived at the Planet around the noon hour, his tardiness due to the chores that needed his attention on the farm, Chloe had to pretend Sunday never happened. Otherwise the tension between them could have drowned the entire downtown of Metropolis. Though both tried to proceed with the case in a professional manner, Jimmy still recognized something between them was terribly wrong. He even asked Chloe when they were alone if something bad happened between her and Clark during the weekend. She denied it casually, and pegged the awkwardness to a side-affect of the case, as well as exhaustion. Thankfully, he didn't inquire any further.

Over the course of the afternoon, Chloe and Clark dedicated their time to brainstorming suspects. Back-story information on Abigail Jamison revealed what they had already suspected; she worked for the Daily Planet, in the payroll department. By what little Clark remembered from his attack, Abigail fit the bill for most sought after victims. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and, though not married, also had a boyfriend.

By the very selective nature of the victims, Chloe quickly concluded that the killer was not only a werewolf, but also had to be a Daily Planet employee, as well. The killer could have chosen any blonde hair, blue-eyed women in Metropolis, but he picked through the Daily Planet employees specifically. Unless the person was absolutely obsessed with the degradation of the paper and its employees, it was likely the killer had seen and chosen these women far ahead of time within a pool he was already in full contact with. Because two of the three women mentioned the presence of a possible stalker in their lives, what other type of person, other than a Planet employee, would be able to easily perform such an evasion of privacy? As an employee, the killer could have followed the victims for months, tracked their every move, and discovered their routine without anyone knowing otherwise.

Though Clark agreed with her train of thought, he didn't know the real reason why Chloe suspected someone on the inside. In her first love letter from the stalker, it said "_At your desk, you never see me / But I always see you." _And though any visitor to the Planet could plainly see her at her desk if they came down to the basement, Chloe had a feeling the killer was actually flaunting himself proudly. Kind of like a _'Where's Waldo?' _puzzle game. Somehow, she could almost see him hiding away in a Daily Planet closet, concocting his next plan of action and snickering silently at his ability to be so elusive while in such plain sight. He was teasing her, daring her to find him. She just knew it.

On the wings of their latest hypothesis, Clark and Chloe then tried to narrow the search down. Who in the Daily Planet would benefit the most from pinpointing the employees for murder? Though the killer might be a werewolf, a being driven almost entirely by instinct, the selectivity of his murders testified to the active presence of the human half of his psyche. Perhaps he killed these women, three employees of the paper, not just to saturate his cravings, but also for some personal, human gain. This second stage of their brainstorm took slightly longer to decipher, but Clark soon remembered Chloe talking of the extensive amount of papers sold while the cases had been in the public eye. And who would benefit the most from sold-out editions of the Daily Planet?

The new Daily Planet CEO, Nathan Hannigan.

However, when Chloe tried to set up an interview with the paper's new head honcho, his secretary insisted his schedule had no room for a quick, ten-minute meeting.

In the meantime, Clark and Chloe also contemplated the role of kryptonite. Clark had felt ill in the presence of both the werewolf and Zachary, which irrevocably concluded that the two were one in the same. Yet what reasons would Zachary have to kill the other two women? Besides the stir of any possible lycanthropic tendencies inside his head, there was no real motive. However, his disappearance, as well as his close ties to Abigail, through whom he would have a clear gateway into the Daily Planet, gave Clark and Chloe reason to believe he was involved. So they added him to the list of possible suspects, towards the bottom of the complete employee list of the Daily Planet. But despite Zachary's clear encounter with kryptonite, his attachment to the rock could still not be explained.

It was around this time when Chloe and Clark finally heard of Zachary's disappearance the night before. Police and the Smallville Medical Center had oddly kept the information under closed doors until now. The second the information was released, news reporters and police offices alike were surprised by the strange development. Smallville was quickly inundated with network television crews, desperate to camp outside of the medical center until they heard the full extent of the escape. No witnesses saw Zack leave, nor did anyone see the presence of someone strange who could have helped him escape. Nevertheless, the wall to his room had been crushed through by something powerful, leaving a gaping hole in the side of the Smallville Medical Center building. How he escaped seemed clear, but by whom and what method still lingered as unsolved.

While they waded through files and theories, applying Zachary's disappearance to their thoughts, Chloe called Jeremy numerous times for any information on the evidence from Julie's case. However, every one of her attempts to contact him had gone unanswered. Jeremy had either gone home early for the day, or decided not to answer the office phone or his cell phone while he worked. He was never known to stay completely unplugged from the rest of the world while camped out in his lab doing research. But this case was certainly different, and any information he discovered would quickly become extensively valuable. He had reason to keep the information guarded until it was ready to be revealed.

Currently Chloe sat at her desk, looking worriedly over her latest love letter from her stalker. Earlier in the afternoon, Clark had left to buy both of them some good coffee for a change. They had spent the entire day living on the Daily Planet coffee that could run a car engine for a week, so they needed something new pumping through their veins. When he left, Chloe took the opportunity to go to the ladies room. On her return to her desk, after grabbing a blueberry muffin from the pastry plate next to the coffee machine, she noticed a card turned over with her name on the side facing up. Hesitating only slight, she glanced from one side to the other, and then grasped the tiny card in her hand. Flipping it over, it read as follows:

_**Dear Miss Sullivan,**_

_**When I see you, I see heaven.**_

_**Your eyes glow with warmth**_

_**And when I gaze upon your face**_

_**I feel like I'm flying through the pure, white clouds**_

_**With the sun shining through every crack **_

_**And the sky as blue, as perfect as your love**_

_**I know now I can no longer keep my craving for you inside**_

_**We must see each other**_

_**Where the rest of the world cannot hinder us**_

_**In a place where you can see the true me**_

_**Meet me in Luthor Park next to the fountain 11 PM.**_

_**Your Secret Admirer**_

Staying with her private pledge, she didn't tell Clark about the note when he returned with two fresh cups of coffee and scones to refresh them for the rest of the evening. She didn't want to worry him, especially if her own worries were unfounded.

Neither did she tell Jimmy when he bounced in a half hour later, trying to pull her away from her work for a quick, stolen kiss. Though she outwardly returned his affection, something inside of her twisted painfully. Not only did she kiss Jimmy when she really didn't want to, but she also did so in front of Clark. He merely looked on, and then turned away sadly. Thoughts of their time spent together on Sunday came rushing back through her mind like a tidal wave; the horse ride, the pie-eating contest, and finally the tender, passionate kiss shared while they danced under the stars on a cold, October night.

She wanted to love Jimmy. Her mind wanted to be carefree, angst free, and satisfied. But her heart didn't want to settle for anything less than true love.

Thankfully, Jimmy didn't try to repeat the gesture with Clark still with them.

The evening hour soon drifted closer to night, and all decided to call it a day's work. Since the CEO refused to speak with them, Chloe asked Jimmy if he would follow Nathan Hannigan on his way home tonight. Her boyfriend, who had felt left out the entire investigation, happily obliged. Clark had wanted Chloe to go with him as he visited the Smallville Medical Center to view the break out. All day reporters had been kept away from the developments, given only updates from police officers during impromptu press conferences. Clark, having the skills he had, believed he and Chloe could make their way in, if not to see the scene, then at least talk to any possible witnesses.

However, Chloe had other plans tonight. She insisted he go alone, telling him she would spend the night going through her revamped, computerized wall of weird for anything that might shed light on the werewolf's Homosapien identity. Though he hesitated to leave her, especially with Jimmy on stake-out duty, Clark eventually gave in, but not without insisting she call him if she ran into anything suspicious. She promised to do so, though she intended to spend most of her night hidden safely in a bush, camera in hand, while she waited for a stolen glimpse of the werewolf.

If Clark knew the latter, there was no way he would let her go alone, even if his presence would do nothing but make her upset. Not only would his huge form give away their hidden location in the brush, but Chloe's thoughts also would be on _him _the entire time rather than the task at hand. His safety would be her main concern, of course, if he were forced to face the werewolf again in order to protect her from its wrath. However, his close proximity would also be a constant reminder to her of their heated kiss. For someone still trying to make sense of everything, the last thing she needed was to be enclosed in a small space with the man she most desired.

The day with Clark had been hard enough already. The fantasies from the night before and the early morning had merely been a precursor for what was to come. Within the midst of daily activities and investigation with her best partner, thoughts of Jimmy had been long gone, replaced completely by the one she'd tried for so long to forget. Now only Clark came into her dreams, and only he made endless love to her next to a roaring fire, or underneath the hot cascade of a refreshing, early morning shower. Of course, she always dreamt of Clark in the past, just like she was sure he dreamt of her. But the kiss they shared had practically wiped away every reason they shouldn't hook up from her mind. In its place were those fantasies ... those reasons, physical, mental and emotional; to say yes to everything Clark had to offer.

And boy did he have a lot to offer.

Jimmy had been far more cooperative than she had expected when she insisted she wanted to be alone for the rest of the night. Of course, he offered to show up later at her apartment for a reunion of a more intimate level, which Chloe had quickly refused. Though she reminded him that his assignment to follow Nathan Hannigan was far more important right now than sex, she didn't tell him the reason why she shied away from his advances. Until she had her entire episode with Clark from the weekend clear and straight in her mind, she vowed to lengthen her distance from Jimmy by a few more inches than normal. Though she still wanted to be with him, it wouldn't fair to either she or him if she ignorantly gave into his advances right now. With her mind daydreaming of Clark, moving above her, buried deep inside her, and whispering words of love into her ear, sex with Jimmy just wouldn't feel right at all.

Chloe looked up from the note finally, after having read it for the tenth time, taking in the silence of the Daily Planet basement bullpen. Everyone else had finally gone home to their families and lovers hours before. Only the night janitor and security guards remained, all of whom Chloe knew by name. The lights of the bullpen had been dimmed slightly, though the fluorescent light above her head still hummed quietly with full power. Her computer screen had gone black because she had not touched it in over thirty minutes. With the note still nestled in her hand, she had little else to concentrate on at the moment. For the past hour or so, she had searched the wall of weird records on her personal database, but nothing had seemed conclusive. She did discover a few leads, and those she promised to look into further the next morning.

In the meantime, the hour had drifted closer to eleven. She had a little more than a half hour to walk to Luthor Park a few blocks away. On her desk, Chloe saw her cell phone sitting idle, untouched since Clark called her an hour before from inside of the Smallville Medical Center. A few well-placed calls to some of the higher staff members of the hospital, those in support of his mother's bid for the United States Senate, helped him gain special entry into the facility. Despite his advancement, he still was kept away from the scene of the crime by a police line and a garrison guard. Nevertheless, he spoke to numerous witnesses and even took notes of what he learned from them. And though he wanted to meet up with Chloe tonight to discuss the information in further depth, she knew why he wanted to see her. So she told him the information could wait until the next morning.

Chloe glanced to her watch. Thirty minutes. Better to be early, right? She needed to get the best seat.

She grabbed her camera, her purse, and finally her jacket strung on the back of her chair. After she slipped it on to guard against the cold, Chloe headed out, ready to meet the author of the love notes.

**00000000000000000000000**

**_to be continued_**


	13. Meeting

**Episode Thirteen: Meeting**

**0000000000000000000**

The cold chill of a late, October night made Chloe shiver as she walked towards Luthor Park. Despite the winter jacket she wore to protect her from the frost-like temperatures, she could still feel her muscles tightening against the air, summoning heat towards the center of her body to keep her core warm for as long as possible. The moon, just as previous nights, was barely visible behind the clouds. Almost its entire form was shadowed in darkness by the earth, save for a tiny sliver of white at the very edge of its outline. The further Chloe walked inside the park, the more she wished for a full moon. Even though she teased Clark and Zachary because they needed the moon's dim light to see anything, she now understood their complaint. It was incredibly dark, and not just because the sky was full of thick clouds.

Gravel walkways split through the park like rivers in a valley, slicing the area in different sections. Each path lead to some place different, though many intersected at one point or another. Because Chloe had been here before, she knew which path would lead her towards the middle of the park, where the fountain was located. Trees, over half of which were now completely bare of the beautiful fall leaves that decorated their branches earlier in the season, swayed softly in the breeze, set to the rhythm of Mother Nature's orchestra. Nocturnal sounds of an October night in a vacant park began to form around her as she walked, with bushes and grass hissing and clashing at her feet. The weird sounds made her stop numerous instances in order to rationalize their source, though her heart could not let go the reality of what she was about to do.

In moments, she was about to face a werewolf. Actually, if everything went well, she was about to _spy _on a werewolf.

Taking a deep breath, Chloe continued down the walk with a faster pace in her step. Up ahead she could already see the glisten of the huge fountain, overcast with the walkway lamp, the only one within a fifty-foot radius. Benches surrounded the fountain and the gravel path indented around its pool, in a circular pattern. In the middle of the fountain was a sad mockery of a Greek goddess spewing trickles of water from her mouth. Obviously, Luthor had done little refurbishment to the park when he bought it a few years back. He had promised not to transform it into a parking lot, but that didn't mean he would invest money in its aesthetic beauty - at least not until the refurbishment would benefit him in someway.

Chloe glanced to her watch and smiled when she realized she was ten minutes early. Good. She could use the time to scope out the surroundings, and hopefully find a good spot to hide. If she could just secure one good picture of the werewolf, she was sure to find something valuable to help them identify it. Maybe he wore something on his torso, or perhaps didn't care to shed his brand new business loafers before he turned to the dark side. Either way, the contact with him would only help the case.

Brush on the far side, hidden behind a few wooden, ratty old benches and another large oak tree more than twenty yards from the fountain seemed like the perfect spot to hide. Chloe could lay low in the grass, covered by the tall weeds and neglected flower bushes, and the werewolf wouldn't know the difference. She vaguely remembered Clark mentioning a werewolf's excellent eyesight, but she was sure the brush would be enough. Seeing through darkness was one thing, but finding her within a camouflage of dead plants was quite another. Besides, the werewolf would come, see her missing, and probably leave.

Chloe walked over to the overgrown brush and settled herself as comfortably as possible within its bristly confines. She needed to ensure no part of her could be seen from a distance, so she worked the brush and dead branches around her body to hide the outline of her form. Her camera, still snug in her coat pocket, began to press into her ribs when she twisted around to lie on her side. With a little grimace, Chloe reached in and pulled the camera out. Looking to her watch, she still had another seven minutes or so until the werewolf was due to appear. Taking one last, long breath, she closed her eyes and willed herself to be deathly quiet. Anything, even the air from her lungs, could give her position away and that was something she, as well as this case, could not afford.

Wind rushed through the trees once more, forcing Chloe to lower herself further to the ground. She looked through the brush with careful attention to detail, checking every dark spot and shadowy reverie she could see. The bench placed in front of her, though a perfect a cover, did nothing to help her see better. Trying to see through its metal legs proved almost impossible, mainly because they became more of a distraction than they were worth. Sighing quietly, irritably, Chloe furrowed her brow and tried to forget the metal was there. Further still, she tried to forget the rhythmic countdown of each second by the drip-drop of water from the Greek goddess' mouth down into the pool below. She loved rhythmic noises, but not while on a stakeout.

_Thump thump. Thump thump ... the beat of Clark's heart underneath her ear. Their dance from the previous night swelled in her mind like a balloon, taking over every thought, every breath. The music rang in her heart - "It's your love / it just does something to me / it sends a shock right through me / I can't get enough." She had never before felt completely fulfilled by another person than in that moment, while pleasantly lost in Clark's strong arms. She could still feel him breathing in the scent of her hair, and memorizing every curve of her back with his hands. They had danced in silence with one another for a long time, more than willing to let their hearts speak. For a moment, just for a moment, she almost imagined the impossible. She imagined, once the dance was over and the festival had closed for the night, that Clark would take her back to his loft, like he was hers and she was his. He would light the small heater and set it next to them on the floor. Then he would draw her into his arms on that old, worn couch, and place the Native American blanket over their stretched out, entwined bodies. _

_Thump thump. Thump thump. She would listen again, snuggled against him so close. And for the entire night they would kiss leisurely, nuzzle and lick any patches of exposed skin, and talk until their love finally demanded their obedient silence. Silence for them just to be ... just to exist as one in the same barn they shared their first kiss, so long ago. Before the sunrise could shed light on them through the loft window, their love would finally win them over. Under the blanket, nestled, melted into each other, clothes would find their way to the barn floor next to them. Hands would discover new places to tease, lips new spots to kiss. Tiny, guttural groans would tumble from his sweet mouth every time her soft hand lingered between skin and fabric, gripped him, and then stroked him tenderly, swiping her thumb across the tip on every upward movement. _

_She wouldn't be able to stop the release of her own whimper when one of his hands finally drifted down and cupped her naked breast. His thumb circling, fingers pinching until the bud hardened under his touch. Stroke ... deep groan ... and his lips would drop to the other breast and take the other nipple between his teeth, bite down, and suckle gently. With her free hand she would thread her fingers through his raven hair, and look down upon the image of him pleasing her, his lips now red and puffy. She would squirm a little with the first tingle of orgasmic sensation, then let her head fall back on the couch cushion underneath her head. _

_Gripping his hair, stroking him with a little more fervor, she would call out, breathlessly, "Oh God ... Clark."_

_Sliding up her body, kissing her throat, he would respond ... "Chlo ... I need you."_

Distracted by her thoughts, Chloe neglected to see or hear the approach of someone behind her. Grass rustled restlessly next to her feet, but only the change of light, the disturbance of shadows made her turn left. And in her peripheral vision, the claws, the same described by Clark and the same skewered into his chest, swiped down towards her neck in a second's worth of time. Chloe screamed and ducked instinctively, making the claws barely miss her and clang hard on the metal frame of the bench above her head. The echo of the clang bounced endlessly in the silence, amongst the trees. Yet the sound hardly discouraged the huge, hairy beast from his pursuit. Clangs in the night often went unaccounted for ... just like the screams of a young blonde in the middle of a vacant park.

Chloe rolled away from him, stood, and started to run back in the direction she had come. Her heart pounded like a hammer in her chest as her body desperately tried to account for the extra adrenaline surging through her veins. The wind picked up violently, whistling around her like a firestorm of sound. She didn't dare look over her shoulder to see if the werewolf was following her, afraid such a simple act might hinder her bid to safety. Thoughts of Clark shined brightly through her mind, and she wondered if Metropolis was too far from Smallville. _Would he hear her if she screamed? If she called for him? _She hated to do it, knowing what the werewolf could do to him, but she feared she might not have any other choice.

Though she didn't look back to see the werewolf's progress, she could feel him. He had followed her just as she suspected, and only when the wind died down could she hear the stomp of heavy footsteps as he slowly descended upon her. They seemed far away at first, though they gained momentum and speed as she continued to run, rapidly running out of breath. A scary thought ventured into her mind, and she sourly wished she had never thought of it. But she did. _He's just toying with me ... waiting until I run out breath, until my legs finally fall off. He's just waiting for his chance to strike. Waiting for the moment when I won't be able to fight back. _

Up ahead, the trees in the park gradually began to close in, decreasing the running room. Chloe had reached a section of the park rarely trotted upon on a normal basis. Picnic tables were set around the trees for those seeking seclusion, and paths leading to the more populated areas were few and far between. On her approach to this special section of the public park, Chloe realized she had made a wrong turn somewhere. She didn't remember crossing through this section on her way in. Silently she cursed herself, desperately trying to find some pavement walkway to give her a clue of the direction she needed to go. Further still, she wished she had spent more time in this park before now, because her current situation could only be categorized as _lost. _

Meanwhile, the rustling of grass came closer and closer, due both to the werewolf's inability to wait and Chloe's gradual loss of strength and lung capacity. Diversion was her last chance to escape on her own two feet rather than courtesy of a gurney pushed by the city coroner, so she scoured the area as she ran, searching for a place she could hide. On the far right stood a small maintenance building, and briefly she considered using it. But the idea of being trapped inside with a werewolf hot on her trail quickly doused her excitement. Using such a small building to hide would only give him shelter when he finally caught her and chewed the meat off her bones, ignoring her horrific, last shrieks of life.

Thankfully, another building appeared ahead of her, seemingly dropping from the heavens above like an answered prayer. This second building was almost three times the size of the maintenance building, and the dusk till dawn light above the exit doors gave her more than enough illumination to find her way. Chloe only needed to reach those doors and hope the werewolf found modern technology difficult to fathom. If she could lock the door in time, perhaps her predator might become discouraged and finally leave. She might have to stay inside the facility the entire night, but if doing so kept her alive, she was fine with it. And even if she did feel the urgency to leave before the sunrise, she could always call Clark to find her and escort her home. With Clark's speed, the werewolf would have no chance to catch them if he happened to have enough forethought to hide in bushes nearby and wait for her to finally come out, knowing she would eventually have to.

_Were werewolves that intelligent?_

_  
_Panting harder, Chloe summoned the last of her strength so she could reach the facility just a second sooner. Soon the rhythm of her feet on the grass found pavement, and in an instant she was at those doors, pulling on their handles, struggling to open them. She tugged once, twice, and cursed when they neglected to open and give her sanctuary. However, there was a glass window just to the right. She only searched for a few seconds before she found a small, metal pole the size of a baseball bat nestled against the building on the ground next to her feet. _God was really showing His stuff tonight, huh? _Chloe mused. She picked up the metal pole and swung it towards the glass window, cracking it on the first strike.

Claws suddenly swung towards her from behind, their pointed, jaded edges coming within millimeters of her throat. Chloe screamed again and dropped immediately to the hard concrete, and watched in terror as the werewolf, now looming over her, broke the glass with one strike of his powerful forearm. She crawled away from him hastily, climbing to her feet. But the werewolf was on her before she had the chance to run, pushing her to the grassy ground a few yards away. She landed hard on her stomach, and only the instinctive brace of her hands ensured she didn't break her chin when she landed. Sucking in desperate breath, Chloe flipped to her back and saw the werewolf walking to her. With the dusk till dawn light behind and above him, she could barely see his furry, terror filled face ... but she could see his smile. She could feel his satisfaction, having finally trapped her.

Chloe screamed again, but this time she had purpose.

"Clark!"

She tried to back away from him, nudging her ass backwards from him along the grass as quickly as she could with her hands and feet. The werewolf continued to follow slowly, however, drawing out the inevitable. Intent on giving her time to realize what was about to happen.

"Clark!" she shouted frantically, eyes brimming with tears. "Clark! Please, Clark ... please hear me!"

The werewolf howled to the moon, stifling her cries for help by his own of victory. Looking down to her, a second passed silently between them, just as the clouds around the moon slipped through the sky as if pulled on an imaginary string. Then with yellow eyes, teeth barred, and claws drawn, the werewolf lunged to her with unbelievable force. Chloe screamed for Clark once more, and instantly placed her left forearm across her face as her last line of defense.

And breathed in deeply when she realized she felt no pain.

Dropping her arm, Chloe put a hand over her mouth in shock as she discovered the reason for her momentary safety. Somehow, and from somewhere, Jimmy had come to her aid. And at the moment, he had his hands gripped strongly around the werewolf's forearms, keeping it at bay long enough to give Chloe room to escape. He grimaced tightly and squinted his eyes at the werewolf, who continued to growl and snarl every second Jimmy kept it from its dinner. Jimmy took several gasps of breath, then turned back to Chloe. She sat motionless, stunned by his brave plea to save her life.

He blinked once, twice, then strained a little more with a deep groan. "Go!" he ordered harshly between his gritted teeth. "Go!"

Chloe shook her head and stood. "No ... I won't leave you."

Then before either could argue the point further, the werewolf recognized the growing weakness in his opponent and took the opportunity to strike. With a snarl, the beast loosened his right, clawed hand from the vise grip, and slashed its sharp edges across Jimmy's midsection. Jimmy screamed in agony, his eyes growing like saucers with the shock of the sudden blow. Instinctively, he placed his hand atop the fresh wound along his chest, and watched helplessly as blood spewed from the sides like lava dripping from a volcano.

Jimmy teetered backwards slightly, still overcome with shock and the sight of his own blood. However, the werewolf wasn't nearly finished with him. Grabbing him by the shoulders, the werewolf threw Jimmy off to the side like an obstacle in the way of his prize. The young man landed on the grass a few yards away, and crumpled to his back, finally unconscious. Chloe shouted for Jimmy with immense fear in her eyes while she witnessed the entire terrifying scene, tears streaming down her cheeks because she knew she could do nothing to help him. Instead she had the werewolf descending upon her, walking to her slowly, with the same yellow eyes and toothy growl, as if Jimmy hadn't even come to her aid. She wanted to turn and run, but knew the desperate, aggressive act would hardly deter the course of her forthcoming demise. Nothing in this world could help her now.

Nothing ...

Save for the spear of fire.

The grass between her and the werewolf suddenly erupted in flames, crackling and fiery. Chloe jumped back in shock, and the werewolf shrieked in terror. He covered his face with his hairy forearms, and instantly vanished into the night. Only leaving his howls of fear to echo in his wake.

Chloe panted hard, turning left and right to find the expected source of the flames. And appearing next to the side of the building was the tall frame of her favorite farm boy, his form alight due to the soft glow from the dusk till dawn light a few yards away. He sped to her like a rocket and instantly pulled her tight in his embrace.

"Chloe," he whispered, tightening his hold.

She closed her eyes peacefully, laying her head on his chest. "Clark ... oh, God, Clark!"

He buried his face in her shoulder, and then pulled away to look at her. "Are you okay?" he asked, his hands running over her back and sides, searching for injury.

Chloe nodded and smoothed her hands across his strong chest. The material of his long sleeved shirt and signature red jacket had never looked so amazing. She wanted to kiss him all over for coming to her rescue. "How did you know ... ?"

Clark smiled and pulled her tighter against him. "I heard you. I heard you scream."

A wave of delight tingled through her body pleasantly, knowingly. Of course Clark heard, just like he always did. Overcome with happiness, with the warmth of being nestled safely in his strong arms, Chloe almost reached up and cupped his face. She almost gave him a long, pleasurable kiss of gratitude, of love. She almost gave into him.

But the reality of what just happened not more than a minute prior began to burden her heart, and she remembered ...

"Jimmy!" she suddenly called out, pulling back from Clark's embrace. "We have to get him to the hospital."

Clark furrowing his brow, concerned. "Jimmy was here?"

Chloe nodded quickly, then ran hastily to her boyfriend's idle form in the grass more than twenty yards away, still sprawled unconscious on his back. Clark followed on her heels, and when they reached him a few moments later, blood had soaked through his shirt. Chloe instantly dropped down to her knees next to him, running her hand up to the pulse in his neck. Thankfully, her fingers could still feel it beating, though far weaker than usual. Gazing to Clark, who had dropped down next to Jimmy on his other side, she instructed, "He's still alive. Let's get him up."

Clark gritted his teeth when the familiar rush of nausea suddenly surged weakly through his body. He barely heard Chloe's request, but knew what he had to do. When she tried to lift Jimmy's body up herself, Clark pushed her hands away. "I'll get him," he insisted, standing. But when he tried to lift Jimmy's limp form in his arms, his muscles screamed in pain. Though he could lift Jimmy in his arms, the weight of his body threatened to make Clark lose his balance. He tried again, and again once more, but each time felt worse. Until finally he could barely stand on his own.

Bewildered, Chloe stood and asked worriedly, "Clark, what's wrong?"

He sighed deeply, catching his breath. "I can't lift him," he admitted quietly, bending down to place his hands on his knees.

"What?" she asked, now concerned for both Jimmy's dwindling health, as well as Clark's. For someone so used to throwing tractors like softballs, Clark's sudden inability to lift an easy one hundred and seventy-five pounds was more than just abnormal. It shouted the presence of kryptonite.

Clark closed his eyes against the pain, which boiled in his veins. "You're going to have to call an ambulance. I'm too weak to take him."

**00000000000000000000000**

**_to be continued_**


	14. Bedside

**Episode Fourteen: Bedside**

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Mornings in the Metropolis Memorial Hospital brimmed with chaos. Chloe watched the movement of nurses, doctors and patients from her perch next to Jimmy's bed the entire night. Because Jimmy's condition improved greatly over the course of the night, the doctors chose to keep him down in the ER until he awoke from the sedative. He required quite a few stitches along the wound, but thankfully nothing more. If the werewolf's claws had pierced just a few inches deeper, Jimmy would probably be in surgery, under the hands of surgeons desperately trying to save his spleen, or possibly a kidney. Other than the wound on his chest, and a bump on the head, Jimmy came out of the experience with everything intact.

But for Chloe, it wasn't nearly good enough.

She took the last sip of her coffee, her tenth cup since she's been here. Nurses continued to encourage her to go home, get some sleep. But Chloe just couldn't leave Jimmy here alone, especially when she blamed herself for what happened. Though she had not yet heard the reason why he had come to her so unexpectedly, Chloe could hardly be angry with him for following her. Because of him, she was alive. Jimmy had shown up just in time to save her from the first close call. Just in time to give Clark a few more seconds to arrive and save them all.

Without either of them involved, someone would have ended up on the werewolf's menu by the end of the night.

Sighing deeply, Chloe looked up from her Styrofoam cup to gaze at Jimmy. He only opened his eyes once since the ambulance brought him here, and just after he was shuffled into the trauma room. When he saw her looking over him worriedly, he smiled softly then drifted back into momentary darkness. The ER nurses and doctor's worked on him for a little while, stabilizing his condition with numerous medicines. In a very short time he was off the heart monitor, stitched up, and fast asleep in a bed behind a curtain in the emergency room, safe and sound. Chloe sat next to him almost the entire time, save for a short walk to stretch her legs at a little past three in the morning. And, of course, whenever she needed to refill her coffee cup.

While she waited for Jimmy to improve, thoughts of the past few days settled uncomfortably in her head. Much to her dismay, Chloe felt her mind lingering back to Clark and the excitement she felt when he had saved them for the thousandth time. Of course, she loved Jimmy for coming to her rescue, and risking his life to save her. And though Clark had super powers, he risked his life just the same. If he had come within a few more yards of the werewolf, Clark would have been just as vulnerable as Jimmy. Clark knew the personal risk he was taking by coming to her aid, yet the danger didn't faze him in the least. The danger never fazed him. He had rescued her so many times, that she eventually lost count after the first few years in high school. And while in his arms last night, having just escaped the jaws of death again, Chloe felt safe. She felt like she could close her eyes, even with a werewolf still very close, knowing nothing bad would ever happen to her while protected within Clark's embrace.

With Jimmy she rarely felt that way. She liked him quite a bit, enough to sleep with him more than a handful of times. But he didn't sweep her off of her feet.

Chloe cursed herself for even making the comparison at a time like this. Jimmy tried to rescue her. He really did. And he had come within inches of losing his life, or, at the very least, going on with one less functioning organ.

_Then why was she thinking like this? Did she love Clark that much more? _

Bemused, Chloe stood and walked over to the coffee pot next to the nurses' station. Because she had been there almost the entire night, the nurses eventually gave her full access to the free coffee. Though it was hardly gourmet, it was far better than the vending machine sludge she tried to drink for the first hour of her stay. After she poured herself another cup, Chloe started to walk back towards the motionless Jimmy.

But a hand casually took hold of her arm.

"Hey."

Chloe turned to the voice, and smiled. "Clark ... hi."

Clark smiled back weakly, and then looked over to Jimmy. "How is he?"

"Better," she replied. "Though after just barely escaping a werewolf murdering spree, anything would look like the Garden of Eden." They walked closer to him as she spoke, but Clark promptly stopped, leaving at least ten or more feet between him and Jimmy. When Chloe noticed he was suddenly missing from her side, she looked back to him confused. "Clark?"

"Sorry," he whispered. "But I can still ... _feel_ it."

Chloe glanced to Jimmy for a moment, then back to Clark. "You mean ... ?"

He nodded.

"Short of Jimmy taking a bath in the green goo, you shouldn't be feeling it now," she said softly, coming up close to him. "The nurses stripped him completely, and I looked through his belongings myself. I didn't see anything even resembling kryptonite."

"I don't know what's causing it either. I just know I can't be very close to him right now."

Chloe gazed back to Jimmy curiously. "Sounds like the victims have more in common than just werewolf encounters."

"An encounter with kryptonite," Clark finished for her, though with a shade of skepticism. "But you even said you checked Jimmy's belongings, and there wasn't anything."

"Maybe not _on_ him," she replied, turning back to Clark. "But maybe_ in _him. You didn't remember seeing any shiny green rocks when you faced the werewolf yourself, but you felt their presence. Maybe it's _in_ the werewolf, too. Maybe every time he strikes someone, he infects the person he strikes, if they survive, with kryptonite."

"But why am I not infected?"

Chloe shrugged a little, suddenly deeply concerned for Jimmy. If he had kryptonite ravaging through his system, there was no way to know how it would affect him. Knowing her past as she does, and recalling the database on her computer labeled '_The Wall of Weird'_, Chloe suspected Jimmy's life might change much more than anyone could fathom. However, Clark did have a point ... why wasn't he screaming in agony from the kryptonite pulsating through his veins from his own attack?

"Super healing? Maybe you heal too fast for the infection to take hold."

Clark sighed and revealed the pages of notes he took the night before from his back pocket. "Maybe," he acknowledged, remembering his past spent in the presence of other kryptonite infected people. "When someone injects it straight into their system, I could never get close to them until their body was flushed clean."

Chloe noticed the pages of notes in his hand and decided to change the subject. Despite the clear importance of the green rock to this case, she had trouble discussing it with Clark right now. It had only been a few days since the werewolf struck him, and the vision of his bleeding, shredded body had yet left her mind. Even worse, her boyfriend was in a hospital bed, possibly juiced forever by the toxin. Nothing about the green rock was pleasant to talk about right now.

"What are those?" she asked, gesturing to the worn pages.

Clark looked to them. "The reason why I'm here. I interviewed the witnesses at the Smallville Medical Center last night. The witnesses you didn't want to speak to, because you preferred to be chased through the woods by a werewolf."

"I didn't go to the park looking to be sliced and diced," Chloe corrected with a smirk. "I was following a lead."

"Which you have yet explained to me," Clark mused, stepping closer to her. Looking into her eyes, the amusement from his face vanished, replaced by the concern he felt the moment he saw the werewolf hovering over her terrified form in the park. "Why won't you tell me who gave you the lead? Or where you heard it?"

Chloe shrugged sheepishly. "You can bat your eyes at me all you want, but a reporter never reveals her deep throats, Clark ... even to impressionable farm boys like you," she insisted, though the guilt in her heart threatened to choke her. If Jimmy did develop some weird kryptonite induced ability because of his exposure to the werewolf, than she would really feel horrible. _Me and my stupid insatiable curiosity. And my desire for the Pulitzer, no matter what it takes. _"So what did you find out?"

"Well, no one actually saw Zack leave. They only heard something crash through the wall. And when the nurse on duty went to the room to investigate, she said she might have briefly seen someone jump out of the gaping hole just as she opened the door to Zack's room. Said it was too dark to see anything clearly, but she really thought someone had been there."

Chloe smirked. "So we're back to the dark, mysterious man hook?"

"I did try to follow the footprints," he offered, ignoring her sarcasm.

"And?"

Clark shrugged. "I followed them through the woods for a while, and then they disappeared. But there was only one set to follow."

"So you're saying the werewolf had take out?"

"Well ... possibly ... ".

"Or Zack left on his own."

Clark nodded. "Right."

Chloe thought about it for a moment. Though Zack might be physically strong, there was no way he could have shattered through the wall. Only Clark could have pulled off something like that. Someone could have visited Zack before hand and given him the appropriate tools to escape. But why hadn't the nurses noticed anything peculiar? Certainly the sight of explosives hidden underneath his hospital gown would have aroused some suspicion. Of course, someone on the outside could have blown the wall, which was possible. No one heard Zack scream for help, so it might have been someone he was expecting beforehand.

"Well, I think we should try to talk to the CEO again," Clark said.

Chloe grimaced. "We? Clark, I don't know if I feel comfortable leaving Jimmy ... ".

Clark placed a hand on her shoulder. "Chloe, you've been here all night. Jimmy's fine for now. The best way to help him is to find this guy."

Though she really had no intention of leaving Jimmy's bedside until he awoke, Clark did have a point. She was too deep in this case to falter now. She's risked too much, both Jimmy and Clark's life, and to turn back now would be foolish. If anything, she and Clark had to find this werewolf before it was too late for someone else.

"Okay," she said, glancing back to Jimmy's sleeping form. "I'll go."

**00000000000000000000**

**_to be continued_ **


	15. Undeniable

**Episode Fifteen: Undeniable**

**000000000000000000000000000**

"You can read my itinerary," Nathan Hannigan replied, sitting down at his desk. He pushed a stack of files closer to Clark and Chloe, both of whom were sitting across the desk from the Daily Planet CEO in black, cushion chairs.

Chloe took the files in her hand. "We're just covering all bases."

"That's fine. But I assure you ... you're barking up the wrong tree. Why would I ever want to endanger the lives of my employees? Certainly doesn't bode well for hiring time, does it?"

Clark smiled at the man softly, noting his quick reaction to produce an alibi. Of course, Mr. Hannigan probably had numerous witnesses to back up his schedule. Yet, listening slightly, Clark noticed the young CEO's heart rate had sped up a little since they first came in for the interview. Glancing to his notes, he said simply, "Well, as long as you understand why we had to ask."

"I do," Hannigan said. "Although, you two are the only reporters coming to me with suspicion. Frankly, I think the idea is ludicrous. It's good practice to eliminate suspects, but I hardly consider myself capable of cannibalism."

"But the paper did sell out three editions when Mr. Haley, the main investigative reporter of the Daily Planet, reported on Julie Thompson's murder. The second Daily Planet employee to be killed, and the third over all. The fourth to be attacked, if you count me," Chloe replied.

Hannigan pursed his lips. "I am very sorry for what happened to you last night. And I'm sorry your boyfriend, the photographer, had to go to the hospital. But last night, as you will see from the papers I just gave you, I was at the Charity Ball for the Metropolis Museum of Natural History. I have more than a hundred witnesses who saw me, plus my driver who took me home. So whatever you're trying to imply, _Miss Sullivan_ … you might as well save your breath. Okay?"

Chloe nodded, smirking. "Fine. Then I guess you have nothing to worry about."

"Right."

After a silent moment, Chloe finally stood and Clark immediately followed her lead. She placed the pages of Mr. Hannigan's itinerary from the last week safely into her briefcase. Extending her hand to him across the desk, she offered him something of a momentary truce. He stood up and grasped it lightly. "Sorry to have disrupted your day of making news, Mr. Hannigan. No hard feelings."

"None," he reassured, smiling. "I suspect you'll be quite the spunky reporter here when you finally make it."

Clark reached for Hannigan's hand, as well. "Good day, sir," he replied. Hannigan shook his hand, but quickly grimaced with discomfort after a few moments within Clark's strong grip. With a tiny, knowing smile, Clark added, "We'll keep in touch."

Hannigan slipped his hand away tentatively. "Good to know."

In the next minute, Clark and Chloe were outside of his office heading to the elevators. Neither of them said a word as they passed by Hannigan's secretary, or when they walked through the rest of the office space on the top floor of the building. When they finally reached the elevators at the very end of the hallway, Clark pushed the button to go down, and each waited silently, patiently. People passed by them, and a few acknowledged Chloe, having remembered her face from previous encounters within the building.

Soon the doors swooshed open quietly. Chloe stepped inside first, followed closely by Clark. She pressed the button for the basement floor, and once the doors were securely shut, Chloe finally asked, "So what did you think?"

Clark fumbled with the pages of notes in his hand. "Well, he was definitely nervous while he spoke to us."

"So you think his pants were on fire?"

He smirked. "I don't think he was lying ... but he definitely wasn't telling us the truth. I think we'll check his schedule, and find he had an alibi. But for some reason, I think he knows more than he's letting on."

Chloe considered Clark's words for a moment. Or at least, she tried to. While she agreed with his assessment, her thoughts shamefully remembered a recent elevator scenario her mind cooked up after her kiss with Clark. She closed her eyes, trying to will the thoughts from her brain. Now was not the time to be daydreaming about her best friend, especially when her boyfriend was still laid up in a hospital bed. But unfortunately, she couldn't help herself, especially while in such an enclosed space with him all alone. Images of sharing a stolen moment with him, the first of many as they pleasurably waded through the honeymoon of their new relationship, had formed over and over in her mind. _Relationship? When did that come up?  
__  
_Suddenly she felt him press into her, pushing her form into the elevator wall behind. Surprised, Chloe looked to him with question, only to see him smiling softly, gently, before he cupped her face and kissed her. Slowly, sensually his lips moved along hers, taking and possessing everything she had to offer. Moaning underneath him, Chloe came alive immediately and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer. Their sensual kiss soon became frantic, needy. She hardly remembered when the buttons of her blouse had fallen away, though she didn't care the moment his lips dropped to the surface of her breast and kissed it, just above the lining of her lace bra. Closing her eyes, she dropped her head back against the wall with a tiny thud, surrendering to him as she threaded her fingers through his thick, wavy hair.

Her hands traveled between their bodies of their own accord. Moving down his muscled, chiseled chest, she quickly found the hem of his sweater and snuck her hands underneath. Clark's hands busied themselves underneath her shirt just the same, running up and down her smooth, graceful back. She arched into him when she felt his mouth on her bra, and glanced down to watch him remove the fabric with the grip of his teeth. He exposed her left breast by a few more inches before the lace finally ripped, causing him to groan with frustration. Smiling, she chided playfully in his ear, "Clark, you're ripping my favorite bra."

"I'll buy you a new one," he breathed against her nipple, before taking the tiny bud in his mouth.

Chloe swallowed hard when the sensation of his wet tongue lapped at her hot, sensitive skin, and she had to bite her lip to stifle her cry. Her hands trailed along his abdomen for a while, loving the feel of his angelic skin, before she finally moved them further south to the silver button of his jeans. The button slipped through the hole with barely any effort at all, though her shaky fingers struggled with the zipper. She could already feel him growing hard with every second, and even more so when her hands grazed over the bulge on her way down. The small touch earned her another deep groan from the mouth buried in her cleavage, tugging gently on the other side of her bra. She watched for only a moment as Clark exposed her other breast, then bit down hard on her nipple.

She whimpered a little under her breath and proceeded to slither his jeans down his hips. Clark answered her by slipping his own fingers into the waistband of her jeans, humming delightfully when he realized how close he was to her center. Rather than tear through her jeans like he wanted to, he super sped through the otherwise torturous process of unclasping and removing them. In seconds her jeans and panties were pooled around her knees and his fingers had eagerly, slowly slipped up inside. Chloe reactively tightened her grip on his waist, and Clark smiled when he heard her breathless curse in his ear. One gentle slide of his thumb made her moan again, urging her to tug their stolen moment of passion to the next stage. Her hands pushed his jeans and boxers down the rest of the way, just as Clark shifted upward to bath her throat with baby kisses of love, of need.

She stroked him a few times, and giggled when she heard the desperate cry rise from his throat. Cupping the back of his neck, Chloe kissed him passionately, sweeping her tongue in his mouth to heighten the intensity, to drive the moment. Clark responded with his own fervor by picking her up in his arms pressing her back hard against the elevator. The playful exertion caused her to smile and grunt against his lips, as she

Her little grunt, however, forced him to stop their lovemaking for a moment. Worried, he leaned back just enough to gaze into her eyes. Clark stifled his groan when his erection drifted closer to her, mere inches from the warmth awaiting him.

Rather than plunge in right away with one deep thrust, he looked to her seriously instead. "Did I hurt you?" he asked.

Chloe tightened her grip on his neck, overwhelmed with the glow of his love. "No," she whispered, smiling wide. Kissing his nose, his cheek, his chin, she insisted softly, "I want this. I trust you."

He shook his head. "Chloe ... ".

"Make love to me, Clark."

Clark stared at her for a moment longer, making sure this was what they both wanted. When she smiled at him, confident and certain, breathtaking and lovely, he ended their wait once and for all. Burying his face in her neck, he entered her with a long moan of pleasure, matched only by her own gasp of ecstasy.

_"Chloe?"_

Chloe blinked her eyes once before she let the world filter in around her. The walls of elevator came into view, though she was in no way pressed against them by Clark's hard, beautiful body. Her clothes were still on; both her jeans and the blue blouse Clark mentioned his adoration of earlier. And rather than gasping because he was pulsating inside of her, she was standing idle in the very middle of the elevator car with a curious farm boy awaiting the answer to his question.

Cheeks flushed, she closed her eyes and asked, "What did you say?"

Clark smirked. "I was just wondering if you were going to answer your cell phone."

She blinked, and then felt the vibration of her phone inside her purse. Rummaging through it quickly, Chloe pulled out the small device and flipped it open without ever caring to check the identity of the caller.

"Hello?"

"Hey," came the voice, one she didn't recognize... or didn't want to.

Chloe swallowed nervously. "Who is this?"

The man on the other end smiled curiously. "Jeremy - the guy you've been calling non stop all weekend."

Placing a hand to her forehead, she replied, "Of course, sorry. Emotional jet lag has had me grounded the last twenty-four hours. What's up?"

Jeremy laughed. "Well, I think I have something to make it all better."

Clark closed the distance between them to listen in on the phone call. Inches from her, Chloe had to close her eyes to forget he was there, so she wouldn't do something she might regret later. "What did you find?" she asked, trying very hard to sound composed. _Take a deep breath ... another ... it's all over now ... _

"I checked the fingerprints in the police database, but nothing matched. However, I do have a blood type for you from the blood sample. Blood type 'O' negative."

The elevators doors finally opened ahead of them, gratefully giving Chloe a reason to put space between her and Clark for now. She walked through them, with Clark on her heels, and proceeded into the main office area. Her desk looked the same from when she left it the previous night, with just as many papers strewn across its surface. Seeing it almost made her believe last night was merely a nightmare, and if she pinched herself the entire episode would be over. Everything, from Julie's murder to her daydream of having hot, sweaty sex with Clark in the elevator, would vanish in the blink of an eye.

But the reports she scaled through last night were still on her desk in the same, disorganized fashion. And Clark was still standing behind her, smelling and feeling as sexy as ever. The kiss during the dance, the kiss in the middle of Daily Planet chaos - neither allowed her the chance to forget the feelings she has always harbored for Clark. Now those feelings were boiling to the surface like hot water on the stove, spilling over the edge of the pot because she forgot to watch it carefully and turn it down to a livable temperature whenever it threatened to go out of control. At the moment, every fiber of her being was consumed by the hot water.

"Anything else?" Chloe asked, glancing to Clark to see if he had any questions. He merely shook his head.

"No, that's all I have."

"Thanks, Jeremy, for doing this. I know how many ethical and police protocol land mines you had to side step in order to give me a foothold."

Jeremy smiled knowingly. "Just remember ... you owe me a favor."

"Yeah," she said, glancing away from Clark. "I remember."

When Chloe finally hung up with Jeremy, she began to shuffle through her papers to find the list of employees they had created yesterday. Clark stepped closer to her and watched her search. "Type 'O' negative, huh?"

Chloe nodded, but didn't look up at him. "Guess so. No smoking gun, but it might be the arrow that leads us to it."

"How do you plan on using the blood type?"

She finally found the employee list stuck inside the top, right hand drawer of her desk. However, one look at it made her grimace. What she wanted was not there, which meant she would have to search a little harder in the Daily Planet database. "Each Planet employee has to endure modern medicine and get a physical from their doctor before they can grace the halls of the paper. I have a feeling one of the specs on each employee medical report might just reveal the blood type."

Clark watched her for a moment as she sat down at her desk and signed onto the Daily Planet database, which was the spot for reporters to search for information on suspects, cases, and articles. At the moment, Chloe clicked into the more restricted area of the website - sections reserved only for security personnel, board members, and editors. How she ever secured access to the area, Clark hardly had a clue. But once she made her way to the employee list they ran off the day before, she started to nose around for any links leading to other employee information.

However, Clark's mind was not on the case so much as the beautiful, blonde reporter he shared it with. And since their kiss, he has barely been able to think of anything else.

"Chloe ... uh, maybe we should talk some," he suggested softly, wondering when his voice turned so quiet.

She stilled slightly, then turned to him. He stood above her, tall and handsome, and if not for the clear memory of Jimmy in the hospital, waiting for her return (not to mention the VERY crowded Planet basement), she might pull him down for a kiss. Then shove him back on her desk and really show him the true, inquisitive nature of a reporter.

But with a little sigh, Chloe replied, "I don't know, Clark ... everything's so chaotic right now."

Clark moved closer and bent down to his knees in front of her. Now eye level with him, she could stare into his eyes and see the true intentions of his request. Unlike every other moment before, each riddled with the repulsive flavor of rejection and regret, Chloe could tell Clark was very serious. She knew he wanted her. By the brave, upward movement of his hands, from her knees to her thighs, he left no room for interpretation. And shamefully, Chloe wondered if he somehow caught on to her very intense daydream in the elevator not so long ago. _Did he sense her arousal just by standing next to her? Was that another one of his super powers? Sensing when a member of the opposite sex was attracted to him?_

"I don't want to be pushy," he whispered. "I just ... I don't know how much longer I can keep my hands off you."

Chloe breathed in deeply, though wondered the same. _How long could she keep her hands off him?_ "Clark, I don't think you know what you're asking for. It's nice to know you no longer see me in the pigtails and army boots, but a relationship takes more than just sexual attraction."

"I know that," Clark argued, shifting closer. "Why do you think--- ?"

But her cell phone suddenly rang from atop her desk. Chloe had turned the ringer on so she could answer it easier while they spent time at her desk. At the moment, it interrupted a conversation Chloe really didn't want to have right now, despite Clark's irritable sigh. Whether he had something meaningful to say or not, she just couldn't handle hearing it right now. Because of her, Jimmy was in a hospital bed. Interest from another man could not come at a worse time, no matter how she felt.

Chloe whispered _'sorry' _to Clark, then answered the phone. "Hello?"

Clark rubbed her thighs one more time before he stood. His irritable grimace turned to full discontentment when he realized the call was from the hospital.

"He's awake?" she asked, relieved. The other end talked for a moment, and she smiled more with every word. "Great. I'll be there soon to take him home. Thank you."

As she flipped her cell phone off, Clark perched his eyebrows with interest and asked, "Jimmy's okay?"

She nodded and placed her cell phone back on her desk. "Yeah. They're going to release him in a few hours, then I can take him home."

"Seems fast," Clark observed dimly, quietly upset he didn't have more time with Chloe before Jimmy came back into the picture. Now Chloe will spend most of her time with her _boyfriend _because of what happened. No telling whether she was doing so out of love, or guilt. Though the thought made Clark feel shameful for even believing Chloe could be so superficial. If she was with Jimmy, then she certainly cared for him. And no matter what feelings had arisen between him and Chloe over the past few days, whether they liked it or not, her devotion to Jimmy came first.

At least for now.

"Thankfully he wasn't seriously injured to begin with."

Clark glanced to the computer screen, folding his arms across his broad chest. "If you want to go see him, I can stay here and hold the fort. Let me know when you're taking him home, though. I can help."

Chloe almost denied her need to see Jimmy. But in the midst of so much confusion wading through her heart, she wanted nothing more than to see and feel something familiar. Something routine. Yet even as she stood from her chair and grabbed her jacket, thanking Clark for being so generous, she knew her heart's desire had morphed into another form. Every step away from Clark made her feel lonely, distant, and cold. _"It's long and cold here without you / I grieve in my condition, for I cannot find the words to say / I need you so."_

The words from the Sarah McLachlan song serenaded her heart, mind, and soul as she walked to the elevators, to the main lobby, and finally towards her car. Chloe had never thought reverently of those poetic words before, but nothing seemed to fit more.

Clark watched her leave, and then turned solemnly back to her computer. The page she stopped clicking on, just before he almost revealed the full contents of his heart, still remained full on the screen. Looking around to ensure no one noticed his presence, Clark clicked with super speed through the pages and pages of employee information. The computer had difficulty handling his speed, and more than a few times he had to stop to let the CPU catch up with him. And over the next half hour, he studied the restricted Daily Planet pages, deciding idle hands lead to the Devil's work. No telling what he might destroy in frustration if he had the chance. _Probably the barn door, _he mused. _Again. I often choose that to release my frustration. _

Soon enough his diversion in the case paid off. Pages of employee medical records downloaded on his screen within a matter of a few seconds. Well, links to each one, anyhow. Taking another gander around the office, he took the employee list they created the day before and clicked into each link. Super speeding his way through, he applied the right blood types to the appropriate employees. Once the master list was created, he then searched through it to find type 'O' negative specifically.

At the end of his efforts ... twenty-seven Daily Planet employees had the latter blood type.

For future reference only, Clark quickly typed up the master list and the new list in a Microsoft Word file. He then saved it on Chloe's computer. After cleaning her desk off to ensure no one caught a stolen glimpse of something important, he took the list of twenty-seven names, each with an address, and decided to pay a few visits.

00000000000000000

**_to be continued ..._**


	16. Guardian

_I'm strange, and you're strange  
Don't want you to change  
No way_

_How can I explain  
Flying to the sun without a plane  
When you're here_

_And don't you worry about me, babe  
Cause I'm right here for you to save_

_Hope you know you inspire me  
You're a flower and I'm a bee  
I need you_

_All this you do for free  
Give me hope and I can see  
You're so true_

- **_You're So True_ by Joseph Arthur**

**000000000000000000000000000000**

**Episode Sixteen: Guardian**

**0000000000000000000000000000000**

Clark met up with Chloe and Jimmy more than two hours after he left the Daily Planet with the list of twenty-seven names. During those two hours he effectively visited six Planet employees that had O negative blood. Two out of the six weren't home at all. The other four provided solid alibis for Thursday, Friday, and Monday nights, decreasing the list of names to twenty -three still in need of an interview and background check. Though slow progress, Clark did pretty well for being on his own. He didn't expect Chloe to be highly involved in the last stages of the case - at least not for the next few days, until Jimmy was well. Meanwhile, he would have to pick up the slack, which he didn't mind. If anything, the extra legwork gave him the chance to forget his thoughts of Chloe for the moment, and concentrate on something far more important.

However, when he came to the hospital and witnessed a small, but significant lip lock between a standing Chloe, and a wheelchair sitting Jimmy, Clark had to summon every ounce of his willpower so he wouldn't react irrationally. To further quiet the disgusted shouts of his heart, he also recalled the conversation he almost had with Chloe - the very same one in which he came within moments of telling her everything. _I don't know how much longer I can keep my hands off you, _Clark repeated silently to himself, remembering the words he had said to her like a holy prayer. Better yet, he didn't know how much longer he could continue to watch _Jimmy's_ hands on her without having to step in and say something.

Clark walked closer to them when he found the situation clear of any further public displays of affection. Chloe greeted him immediately with a warm smile, which Jimmy did not share. Rather than the newfound respect that had developed between them over the weekend, Clark sensed only disdain from Jimmy. As if, by some strange sixth sense, Jimmy discovered the sin Clark and Chloe had committed over the last few days.

Sin or not, kissing Chloe felt more right than anything else in Clark's life. And he had no intention to stop now.

Despite Jimmy's cold abrasiveness, Clark helped Chloe take him to the car. The ride to Chloe's apartment felt long and tedious, and not just because Clark had to listen to Jimmy swoon over Chloe like a love soaked teenager. Because Jimmy still felt sore from his injuries, he secured the roomy, passenger seat in the front, forcing Clark to sit in the back seat. _Cramped _just wasn't the right word to describe the uncomfortable experience. His legs were much too long, and he sat hunched over like the Hunchback of Notre Dame, with only a tiny window to view the outside world. To counter the discomfort, Clark tried to make the ride a bit more enjoyable by envisioning what it would feel like if Chloe joined him. Maybe in the first week of their relationship, Chloe would take him to some secluded spot outside of Metropolis. Hidden safely in the woods, they could climb in the back seat and officially embark on the first stage of their physical, intimate journey.

Cramped or not, the moment would be one they would both remember for the rest of their lives.

Once they arrived at Chloe's apartment, parked just a few blocks down from the entrance to her building, both she and Clark hurried out of the car to help Jimmy out of the passenger side. However, when he stood straight up and they tried to escort him towards the stone steps leading to the entrance, Jimmy pushed their hands away from his arms irritably.

"I can do it. For God's sake, I'm not a damn cripple," he snapped.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Jimmy, you've been Rip Van Winkle since the werewolf attacked you. You haven't been out of bed all day. Your legs are probably like a house of cards. Let Clark and I help."

Jimmy smirked as he reached the railing of the stone steps, his eyes dancing wickedly. "I remember one other time when I was with you, and we were _in bed _all day. I could hardly walk for a week."

"Jimmy!" she scolded with shock, cheeks flushed.

He winked at her playfully. "I forgot, that was a dream I've had recently. Though we have had some pretty good times together."

Chloe's heart warmed with embarrassment because of Jimmy's out of control behavior, but also for his lack of discretion in front of Clark. Clark, of all people right now, did not need to hear the details of her past sexual episodes with her boyfriend. And right now, _boyfriend_ was a term to be used loosely. Actually, ever since he opened his eyes, Jimmy had not acted at all normal. Not only did he seem to have a stronger sexual charge than usual, but his level of aggression seemed a little higher, as well. And Jimmy really didn't like Clark all of a sudden - as if the strike from the werewolf had awoken all of his innermost, true feelings for all those around him.

As she came closer to him, biting her tongue to decrease the chances of saying something she might regret, Jimmy grabbed her arm and pulled her closer.

"Why don't we try it? I'm going to be laid up for a few days anyway. We'll have your apartment to ourselves. Tell muscle man to leave, and we can really have some fun. We've wanted to ever since we've gotten back together ... fuck all night long."

Chloe pushed him away, cheeks red with more than embarrassment this time. "Since you can walk on your own, why don't you head up by yourself? Here're the keys," she said coldly, nudging them in his free hand, "Clark and I have to discuss the case for a moment."

Jimmy took the keys freely, but gazed to Clark with intense suspicion. "Trying to make a play for my girlfriend, CK?"

"No," Clark quickly reassured, though his eyes told differently. Of course, he didn't want to break these two apart if Chloe was seriously happy. But the weekend spent with Chloe spoke volumes as to her true feelings towards her boyfriend. She was not the kind of person to cheat on her boyfriend so casually, and with just anyone. Of course, Chloe and Clark didn't _do_ anything to be ashamed of, save for a stolen kiss that could easily be forgotten - if that's what they wanted. However, the kiss was merely the vessel to carry and to exchange emotions dismissed far too soon and far too carelessly.

So no ... Clark was not trying to steal Jimmy's girlfriend. Actually, he was trying to find his true love.

Jimmy narrowed his eyes at Clark, and then started towards him aggressively. Clark quickly stepped back when he realized Jimmy wanted to start something physical. Chloe diffused the confrontation before it had a chance to begin by placing her hand on Jimmy's arm, which adequately stopped him from following Clark down the steps to press the issue.

"Jimmy, please," she whispered, willing his anger down from its great height with the weight of her stare.

_Good thing_, Clark thought to himself, as he realized the effects of the kryptonite, though greatly diminished, still lingered enough to warn him against starting something recklessly. No need to make the situation worse. By tomorrow he was sure he would have nothing to worry about when around Jimmy, but a physical engagement at this juncture would not be healthy for either of them. Clark could seriously hurt Jimmy if they did get into a fight, despite the kryptonite - and do so unintentionally, having no idea how to gauge his strength while under physical distress.

"Scared to fight me?" Jimmy challenged. "Thought so ... all those muscles, not worth shit, right? What are they, inflatable?"

Chloe pushed Jimmy towards the door. "Okay, Apollo, I think you can take the gloves off at any time now. Just go up to the apartment and power down, will you please? I'll see you up there."

After he stared at Clark for a moment longer, Jimmy finally turned and walked towards the entrance, stepping inside and leaving the two of them alone. Clark sighed deeply as he considered what just happened. Strangely, Jimmy acted exactly like Zachary just after the werewolf attacked him. And though Clark considered the werewolf might have had something to do with it, he remembered his own encounter did not drastically change his own personality in any way. At least, not that he could tell. But, of course, being Kryptonian made his physiology much different than that of a human. With this new connection between Jimmy and Zachary, Clark decided to take another long look through the werewolf books he signed out of the library.

"I don't know why he's suddenly turned into the Hulk," Chloe whispered as she looked from the spot where Jimmy disappeared behind the front doors, back to Clark. She stepped closer to him and folded her arms. "I've never seen him act this way."

Clark reached his hand to her left upper arm, and stroked it gently. "Do you want me to stay here tonight?"

Chloe blushed slightly, though she knew his request was genuine. He only wanted to help. Even when her heart shouted to say yes, Chloe knew the right thing to do. Jimmy certainly wasn't himself right now, and coming so close to death by a werewolf was apt to make anyone a little crazy. She needed to give him time to recover before she made a decision that would affect the lives of three people forever.

"No, you don't need to," she replied softly, glancing down to the sidewalk. "Since I know you can hear me scream from Smallville, I'll just use the always dependable, old fashioned cry for help to call you into super hero action if I need it."

Clark inched closer, drawing his other hand to her right arm. Squeezing them assuredly, he whispered, "I'll be right here. For anything."

Chloe gazed up into his handsome face, then stepped into his arms. She hugged him tightly, drew in the fresh aroma of the detergent off his shirt, before finally pulling away. They stood a moment longer, neither wanting to leave the other.

When the silence became to thick for comfort, Clark finally asked, "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

She nodded. "Definitely. We'll meet at the Planet."

"Sure you don't want to go with me to interview a few of these names?" he asked, pulling out the paper of the twenty-seven names from his coat pocket.

"No, you go ahead," she insisted, glancing up to the window of her apartment. "I know Jimmy's being an ass right now, but I have to be there for him. Because I know he would do the same for me."

Clark swallowed hard; sensing his time to leave had come. Remembering, despite everything, he was still only the friend. Comfort belonged to the one upstairs in her apartment, probably socked out on her bed by now. His place was with witnesses, interviewing every last one until he found the murderer. It was the task he _could_ do - find the killer before he had the opportunity to hurt Chloe again.

"Okay, well ... I'll call you later, tell you how it went."

Chloe smiled and walked backwards up the steps. "Okay. I expect a full report, high-flying reporter."

Clark held her gaze for a long time, right up until she reached the entrance. He wanted nothing more than to follow her inside, if only to sleep on her floor or in a chair to watch over her. The werewolf was far from finished with his task. And though the phase of the new moon had come to a close, Clark knew the werewolf would make an exception to finish what he started. Chloe had been the first targeted victim to escape, which left a discouraged and angry werewolf on their heels. Even if he couldn't fight the werewolf like he wanted, Clark could still be a line of defense. Fight till his last breath. Give Chloe a chance to escape, even if it was just for one more day.

When she finally disappeared behind the wooden doors, Clark glanced down to the list of the names crunched in his hand. He had work to do tonight.

**0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

Chloe couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned most of the night on her worn, used couch in her tiny living room. Because Jimmy was still in considerable pain, she let him use her bed for the night. When he tried to pull her into bed with him, she refused, telling him it was best if he used the night for rest and recuperation – _alone_. Having her next to him would only make things more complicated, for both of them. So with a few extra blankets, and the quilt her grandmother knitted for her a few years back, she crashed on the couch. Even with the couch's reputation as the perfect spot for an afternoon nap, Chloe struggled to find the right position to fall asleep. Her mind crackled like an old radio, shifting through mindless stations, one after another.

Worse yet, every time she closed her eyelids, the yellow eyes of the werewolf haunted her thoughts. The fear of his return, more than the uncomfortable couch cushions or knowing her boyfriend was sleeping in the room next to her, was the main reason for her insomnia.

Cars continued to roll past her building on the street outside with no care for the hour. Music blared from a party a few blocks down, police sirens wailed past her building all night, and people screamed at each other in the alleyway across the street. Combine it all together, and Chloe wondered how anyone could fall asleep with such racket. City sounds tended to help her sleep, but tonight they were a nuisance, and she grumbled soundlessly at their presence every time she closed her eyes and they kept her awake.

On nights like this, she missed the solitude Smallville had to offer. On nights like this, as she stared endlessly at the ceiling above her head, Chloe wondered what it might feel like to spend her night in the warm bed of a farm boy- the bed of her best friend, her hopeful lover. She could fall asleep in a heartbeat with him beside her, while his strong arms protected her from her fears and from those dreaded yellow eyes.

He wouldn't leave her until she asked him to. He'd stay with her till the end, just like he did in the park. Come to her when she needed him the most, and save her from the trenches of darkness, just like he has a million times before. And rather than deny her, he would fall willingly into the abyss of her love when she called for him, when she offered her heart. She would pull him in and feel him against her, hear his promise that nothing in life would ever hurt her again.

Even super heroes have limitations, and the latter would sound just as silly coming from him as any other, normal human male. Yet the significance would be far different - because he would mean every word. Clark truly would die for her, and for their love. And even though they have yet consummated their newfound passion, nothing felt more certain.

_So why was she wasting her time with Jimmy? Because the man currently resting in her bed actually said the words? Something like that. _

But she would never love him. Not in the same way she loved Clark.

The sounds from the street continued to plague her weary mind, despite thinking of her best friend to help calm her. With an irritable sigh, Chloe climbed slowly off the couch and walked over to the small kitchenette area. The tiny room could barely be called a kitchen, and was only dignified as such because of the one basin sink, the stove, and the refrigerator. Counter space stretched from the sink, bent into the corner, then turned out right to connect with the stove. White cupboards hung above the sink, though the cabinet door of one was off its hinge, and the other had stains that had been there when she moved in. The colors of the linoleum on the floor had long since faded into a rusty brown. And in all honesty, the kitchenette and the living room should be considered one larger room rather than two. Neither could suffice by itself.

Regardless, the rough dexterity of the apartment gave the space charm - something Chloe tried to remind herself of everyday. At the moment, she prayed the water from the faucet would be crystal clear. If not, she would have to break into one of her $1.50 water bottles to appease her dry throat. She didn't mind buying bottled water, but she'd prefer the money she paid every week for utilities would someday have a greater purpose than to fill her landlord's pockets. She has asked the landlord time and again to fix the plumbing underneath her sink, but he always had some lame excuse, or something better to do. Chloe even mentioned something to Jimmy about the hardware problems in her apartment, all of which he said he had no clue how to fix. And the conversation never went further than that.

Stepping up to her kitchen sink, she turned to the cupboard above the stove and retrieved a clean glass from inside. Even the cupboard door squeaked a little when she opened it, which was just another _charm _she tried to look past. Unfortunately, when Chloe turned the faucet handle only brown water dripped leisurely from the tap. Rolling her eyes, she quickly opened the refrigerator and grabbed one of the water bottles inside.

"Guess clean water can only be found in the suburbs," Chloe whispered tightly. She poured water from her Poland Springs bottle into her glass, then took a slow drink.

A tiny window, one of three in her apartment that looked out onto the street below, stood above the useless kitchen sink. By habit, Chloe gazed outside as she continued to drink her water. The people in the alleyway across the street were finally gone, though the music from the building a few blocks down remained. However, her peering eyes caught glimpse of something, or someone, below and close to the exterior of her apartment building. When she bent over her sink and craned her neck, she still found it difficult to determine the person's identity. However, she did see that the person had taken residence on the stone steps, considerably motionless in the cold, night air.

Curiosity successfully drawn, Chloe hurried back to the couch and placed her sneakers back on. Happily, she wore longer pajama bottoms because of the winter-like chill, so she didn't have to slip into her room to put jeans on. However, she still wore a tank top, prompting her to grab her winter jacket from the coat rack on her way out the door. She zipped it up as she trotted down the flights of stairs, one landing after the next. Her descent clued her in on the nightly activities of her fellow tenants, from TVs blaring info-mercials, to angry parents shouting obscenities at each other, and finally two others - or more - racking their bed against the walls during sex. Gratefully, she remembered since she moved into her apartment, she and Jimmy had decided to halt their lovemaking for a while. Considering the thin walls of her building, Chloe decided having sex in her apartment with anyone, Jimmy or Clark, might not be such a good idea.

After another landing, she finally reached the familiar bottom floor. The dingy lobby area looked like a cutout from a one-star motel in Mexico, including the black spots on the white walls and the lazy, swirling fan attached to the ceiling. Despite the cold temperature in the lobby, the one utility the building got right was the heat. Luckily, she never had to complain about it or have it fixed in her own apartment. And right now, only a door away from the chilly October air, she couldn't wait to go back upstairs. Hopefully her visit with this stranger was short, or non-existent at best.

Hugging her jacket closer to her body, the moment she reached the door and realized the identity of the person, Chloe knew immediately that the conversation might be an all-nighter.

"Clark?" she asked, bemused.

He turned to the sound of his name, and then blushed profusely when he saw her face. He was still sitting on the steps, just as she had seen through her apartment window a few minutes before. He wore the same clothes from earlier in the evening, and Chloe acutely gathered that he had not yet gone home. Above all, she noticed a mix of guilt and embarrassment in his eyes; clearly ashamed she had caught him doing something she insisted didn't need to be done.

"What're you doing here? It's almost two in the morning."

Clark looked away sheepishly. "I came to, huh, take in the view," he whispered hastily, gesturing to the alleyway across the street.

Chloe pursed her lips. "You're differences are a blessing ... but even a dumpster fetish could push you over the threshold of sanity."

He closed his eyes for a moment and nervously ran his hands on his thighs. Chloe stepped down closer while he struggled to respond to her sarcasm.

"I'm sorry. I know you told me to go home. To not worry. But I, I just had to be near you." Then he turned to look at her over his shoulder, his face drawn with heavy concern. "You're the first victim to escape. I just couldn't leave knowing a werewolf might pay you an unwanted visit at any time. I _need_ to protect you."

Chloe smirked, unable to explain the surge of happiness in her heart. But it was enough.

"It's okay," she reassured.

"No ... you know what, I'm sorry. I should leave," he said, starting to stand.

But she placed a hand on his shoulder, keeping him still; preventing him from moving one more step in the opposite direction. Clark glanced up to her curiously, about to insist further, but Chloe spoke up before he could.

"I know you're intolerable to subzero temperatures, and could probably run the New York Marathon naked through Antarctica if you had to. But even you, on occasion, look cold."

Clark stood up straight and smiled. Even when he stood a step below Chloe, he still towered above her by a few inches. In the yellow glow from the street light less than a block away, her hair glistened a deep gold, and Clark tried to remember the last time his best friend looked so angelic. Dreams of waking up next to her had cascaded his mind like a waterfall over the past few days. And he barely had the strength to try to stop this conversation before it traveled in a direction one of them might regret.

"Seriously, I'm fine," he insisted, unconvincingly.

Chloe took his hand. "But we both know you won't leave," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "Come on inside."

Somehow, Clark just couldn't resist. He nodded and let her lead him back into her apartment building behind them. Once inside, Clark blindly followed her up the steps to her floor, paying no attention to anything save for her beautiful form. He didn't expect anything to happen tonight, especially with Jimmy still very present in her life, and in her bedroom. So he decided just to take this special moment as it was - a moment between two friends who needed each other in the impending danger and during the forthcoming darkness. Sounds from the apartments around them suddenly slipped into his thoughts like annoying fireflies on a warm, summer night, stifling his concentration. Instead of picturing future nights full of passion with his best friend, he picked up TVs, parties, and beds rocking against thin walls.

Smiling, Clark thought playfully, _maybe one night those sounds could be Chloe and I. _The idea of causing Chloe to lose control, or even shout animatedly while in the midst of orgasm, loud enough for the whole building to hear, made Clark suddenly very hot. He had to keep reminding himself that tonight would not be a good idea to make any type of move on her.

However, he promised to formally lodge this new fantasy in the back of his brain for future application. After all, being with Chloe was just a matter of time now. He could feel it.

As Clark considered the most pleasurable uses for her apartment building's thin walls, they reached Chloe's apartment door. Though she was not gone for more than a minute, she had locked the door on her way out anyway. No telling the criminals waiting in the wings for some ignorant city dweller to leave their apartment door unlocked. After witnessing such acts of burglary in the past while working at the Planet, Chloe knew better. Spending her high school age years in Smallville may have softened her up a little, but recently living in her original home quickly reminded her of how hard, and smart she needed to be.

On entering, Clark remarked quietly, "I've only been in your apartment once before."

Chloe closed the door behind him and removed her jacket, hanging it back on the coat rack. "Just the same as any other _less than middle class_ apartment in the city's most prominent, crime infested borough - brown wallpaper, and all."

Clark laughed and watched as she moved past him into the living room. He followed her tentatively, still uncertain if he wanted to go through with this. Not that it should be difficult, because a spot on her floor, or in the chair next to her couch, was all he had to look forward to tonight. No unexpected kisses, or leisurely make out episodes on the couch. This would be as simple as it sounded - personal guardian and watchdog for his best friend.

"Are you and Jimmy ... ?" he began, gesturing to her bedroom door, noticing her boyfriend nowhere in sight.

Chloe shook her head. "No, of course not. I was sleeping on the couch - hence the reason for the blankets," she replied, drawing attention to the spot she struggled with all night.

Clark nodded pleasantly, feeling the relief lifting the burden of discomfort off his heart. Sleeping on a couch just outside the room where his hoped-to-be lover and her boyfriend were spending the night in the same bed was not the most desired situation. Thankfully, God had decided to give him a break this time.

"So do you want me on the floor?" he asked seriously, trying to figure the best spot.

"The floor?" she mused with a smile. "I would never make you sleep there. The couch is a pull out, so we can share it."

Clark blinked. "Share the ... the pullout?"

Chloe removed the blankets and pillows from the cushions, smiling all the while at her friend's nerves. He was always nervous around girls, specifically when he liked them. Having him suddenly stop as if green kryptonite was in the room made her feel powerful, or even sexy. He really did want her, and not because he was consumed with an odd jealousy he felt whenever she mentioned Jimmy's name.

Giggling, she remarked lightly, "I assume we can both be mature about this. We have slept in the same room before, back when I was just the odd tom boy from the city."

"You were never odd. Strange, maybe, but never odd."

"What's the difference?"

Clark shrugged casually. "I don't know ... odd suggests weird. Strange suggests ... interesting, and cool."

"Cool, huh?"

"Definitely."

"Well, this cool girl needs help from a strong man," Chloe replied, tugging on the handle of the pullout folded inside the couch. Clark hurried to her once he realized what she meant, and unfolded the mattress inside with ease.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, having trouble remembering when she or her father ever owned a pullout couch.

Chloe grabbed the two pillows at the side of the couch, the same she had used earlier, and set them on the mattress. "My dad found it on sale, and decided I could use it for the apartment," she said quietly. After a moment, she glanced up at him. "So how did the interviews go, reporter man?"

Clark blushed slightly, but decided he liked the name. "Okay, I guess. I went to eight more people, and all gave concrete alibis."

"We're going to have to get our shovels out tomorrow if we want to do any serious digging. I really have no desire to stand in the middle of Luthor Park with a steak around my neck in the hopes that the werewolf like's raw meat as an appetizer."

"There's no way I'm using you as bait."

Chloe stretched the blankets out on the mattress. "We might not have a choice. You said it yourself ... the werewolf is pissed because he missed his target meal last time - me. Maybe if we can draw him out, we can catch him."

Clark shook his head adamantly. "It's too dangerous. There's always another way. We still have fifteen names to check out. One of them is bound to be our man."

"Maybe," she conceded, climbing onto the pullout bed by the left side. As she slipped underneath the blankets, Clark didn't move an inch, still caught off guard by the entire situation. When he still didn't move after a few seconds, Chloe patted the spot next to her with a little smile. "Come on, Clark. You have this entire space. As long as you stay on your side, and I stay on mine, we shouldn't have a problem here, right?"

Clark glanced to her bedroom door. "What about Jimmy?"

Chloe rested back on her pillow. "Are you planning on ravishing me tonight, Clark?"

"What?" he asked, surprised. Surprised because he wondered if Chloe had some mind-reading power she never told him about before.

"Because otherwise, Jimmy has nothing to worry about. Besides, he's konked out on painkillers for the next twelve hours."

Despite Chloe's reassurances, Clark still felt like they were playing with fire. He didn't know why, but he was certain, by morning, something in their relationship would never be the same. Regardless of his reservations, Clark took a deep breath, sat down on the bed to remove his shoes and jacket, and then climbed into the pullout bed beside her. And just as expected, she turned away from him like they were doing exactly what she promised - sharing a bed for the night, like two friends who had no trouble making the distinction.

But as Clark settled under the blankets a little more comfortably, he realized he would never forget how her swan-like back moved up and down as she breathed. He suppressed the urge to touch her, to glide his fingers down the full length of her spine, if only to hear her giggle or whimper into the air. He wanted to _feel_ her breath, and _feel_ her moving underneath him like the wonderful creature she was. Above all, he wanted to fall asleep in her arms, and know nothing of the outside world could shatter what they had. Not now, not in this moment, and not when they had fully and willingly surrendered to one another for the first time since they'd met. Nothing would make him happier, and he knew it.

"Good night, Clark," she whispered to him, softly so only his ears could catch it.

Clark smiled and placed his arms under his head, content. From here, he could definitely ensure Chloe would not be pulled from his life without his knowledge. From here, he could watch her all night. From here, next to her, he could watch her sleep.

Soon the glow from the street light through her windows dimmed, as drowsiness took hold of his mind. Clark continued to stare for as long as he could - at her golden hair, at the curves that seemed to go on forever - until his eyelids finally closed.

**00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

Daylight drifted slowly into the room, though the sun hid behind dreary clouds in the gray sky above. Rain glistened like diamonds on the living room windows, painting everything in the small apartment in a silvery glow. Raindrops on the glass created a rhythmic melody, providing a soothing tonic for a good, restful sleep. So dreary was the weather that Chloe struggled to determine the time of morning when her eyelids finally opened. She usually had her alarm clock, or at the very least her watch, on the nightstand next to her bed to gaze at during the night. However, because she slept on the couch, she had neither device to help her determine the hour.

Early morning sounds began to filter into her mind, into the air around her. Routinely, she heard the roar of a delivery truck dropping off fresh dough and flour to the bakery a few doors down. Along with the sunrise came the usual honks and beeps from cars as people rushed to work, all much too early for Chloe's liking. Because of the familiarity of these sounds, she aptly guessed it must be six-thirty or even seven in the morning. When Clark slipped into her bed at just past two, she stopped counting the minutes until dawn. In fact, she fell asleep so quickly she could hardly recall what had happened the night before.

However, the continuous purr of soft breathing in her ear promised she wouldn't forget for too long.

Blinking in the world, Chloe began to absorb the atmosphere with greater detail. No, she had not slept alone last night. Clark had sat vigil outside of her apartment building for half the night until she caught him. Needing him just as much as he needed her, Chloe invited him up to her apartment to waste away the night in a more comfortable, warmer spot. With him beside her, she had no trouble letting the worries of her world melt away. However, the last she remembered, she had been on the left side of the mattress, and Clark on the right, with more than two feet between them.

But those positions did not at all mimic their current state of rest.

Clark was most definitely spooned behind her. His left arm was draped around her waist protectively, and Chloe discovered his nose gently nuzzling the back of her neck. Their legs had gelled into one, massive form, entwined in an intimate and complicated puzzle of skin. His front was pressed tightly into her back, and she noticed the bulge of his morning erection lightly nudging her ass. Did all men have morning erections? Or just those who slept the night in a woman's arms? Regardless, once she felt his hardness, she couldn't keep her mind off of it. Nor could she refrain from noticing it's subtle growth over the next few minutes, while she moved an inch one way or the other to try to loosen Clark's embrace. Unfortunately, her movement caused him to tighten his grip on her instead. As if his dreams warned him to keep her tight against him until he was sure nothing harmful would take her away.

Escaping Clark's arms, of course, proved to be impossible. She felt caught in a vise, created both by pure steel and the determination of her best friend not to let go. Though the situation initially made her claustrophobic, Chloe quickly sensed surrender in her heart. Deep down, she had no intention of leaving, or fighting. On her side, nestled tight in his arms, she merely closed her eyes and let the closeness overcome her like a waterfall. His touch consumed her in gentleness, in grace.

As she glided her fingers down his arm, she touched smooth skin rather than the fabric of his shirt. Sometime during the night he must have removed it, which left him naked from the chest up. His skin radiated heat like a volcano, and she wondered how his hot skin would feel against hers. How would it feel if she were topless, too?

When her hand found his pressed into her stomach, Chloe entwined their fingers. She heard him sigh softly in her ear, and before she could consider his wakefulness, Clark moved her golden hair aside with his free hand and kissed her neck. For quite a while they just lay there, covered by her blankets and her grandmother's quilt, as she exchanged his kisses on her neck with her gentle squeeze of his hand. After a minute or so, she finally turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. He smiled softly, then bent down and kissed her lips tenderly. The kiss was quick, but nice, it's tease enough to force Chloe to fall back into him for some more. Clark moved back so she could rest on her back, and when she was settled comfortably, he bent down a second time and kissed her again.

The second lasted a little longer. Chloe slowly glided her flattened palms along his naked torso, revealing in the hard, yet silky smooth definition of his muscles. No one had ever felt so beautiful underneath her caress, both physically and soulfully. Her palms inadvertently grazed his nipples on her way to his shoulders, making him whimper softly in her mouth. From his shoulders, she moved them further to his neck and cupped it anxiously as their kisses became more needy, more passionate. Clark wasn't entirely on top of her, but was off to the side, allowing his left hand to move up and down her body leisurely while they kissed. His fingertips discovered the curve of her hip, and gripped it delicately. A soft swipe of his tongue along her lips, and she opened underneath him, lost in the wet touch of his intimate kiss and in the journey of his hand down across her thigh. Her head swirled like a tornado soaked with desire, and even more so when those sweet lips traveled south to her throat, then further to the top of her chest.

"Clark," she protested breathlessly, shockingly aware of what they had permitted to happen the second his fingertips touched the bottom swell of her breast.

He placed a kiss to her shoulder. "We should stop," he whispered, finishing her thought regretfully.

Chloe bit her lip. She didn't want to stop. Actually, she wanted to go all the way, until every piece of clothing was removed and only their cries of pleasure could be heard, through thin walls and all. But her mind would not let her forget the presence of another, snuggled in her bedroom and still hurting because of the mistakes she'd made. Though Jimmy lashed out at both of them over the past twenty-four hours, he had reason to be angry. And his anger should not be the final reason to break up with him, nor the final, fatal error giving her permission to sleep with someone else - no matter whom that someone else might be. She's been happy with Jimmy, and he deserved more than her quick exit in a time when he was clearly not himself.

"Yeah," she agreed, running a casual hand through his thick hair. "We should stop."

She watched him as he continued to trail his lips leisurely over her shoulders. His hand, however, had moved away from her breasts to a safer place, out from underneath her shirt and at her side. Clark knew, just as she did, that going any further would be unfair to the third person in this triangle of love. Luckily, Jimmy had not emerged from the bedroom to catch them.

Chloe had no intention of waking up in Clark's arms when she asked him to join her the previous night, which was why she didn't believe sleeping in the same bed with him would be a problem. Yet as morning came, and they unwittingly took advantage of their drowsy, sleep inhibited, sexually aroused state, both realized how easy it could be to let their untapped passion for one another take control. It took very little to make them give in. Or almost give in. Save for Jimmy in the next room, they might have let go completely.

"I've fantasized about this," Clark suddenly whispered against her sweet skin, moving his lips back up to her throat.

Chloe blinked her eyes closed pleasurably. "About pressing your erection into my thigh?" she mused softly.

He chuckled lightly under her jaw. "No," he said softly. "Though that is another one of my fantasies."

"I think you can cross that one off your list now."

Clark nuzzled her shoulder. "Along with waking up next to you, with rain on the windows."

Chloe couldn't suppress her smile, pleasantly surprised by his confession. "I thought yours would be more complicated. Like running with Lana through a mountain top meadow, wearing nothing but your birthday suits."

"Not Lana," he insisted, baby kissing her shoulders and chest. "Not lately."

"Not since when?" Chloe asked curiously, threading her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. Her heart smiled when he shivered a little underneath her touch.

Clark shrugged sheepishly, but didn't look up at her. Instead he concentrated mainly on the path of his kisses on her skin, drawing lazy shapes from her shoulder down to the fabric line of her tank top. "Since ... for a while," he said, as he courageously reached the exposed inch of her cleavage and gently licked the skin there.

Chloe slid her hand down to his cheek, rubbing her thumb gently along his cheekbone. The caress forced him to gaze up into her eyes affectionately. They stared at each other for a long moment, another full of silence and nonverbal communication - something they've grown used to over the past few months. She studied his facial features with care, looking for the signs to his feelings, to his heart. He seemed to do the same inspection of his own, as his eyes traveled through the beautiful contours and curves of her features like a sailor guided by a lighthouse at sea.

Finally she whispered softly, "I think we have hours of talking to do."

"Yeah," he replied, shifting up to nuzzle her neck once more, earning a soft whimper from her lips. "We do."

Closing her eyes again, she said disappointedly, "We can't do it now."

Clark breathed in her scent deeply, loving every minute he has spent in her arms. This was how he wanted to awake_ every _morning - in her arms with her sweet voice in his ear. Overcome with this need, he didn't feel it necessary to pretend any longer. He understood why Chloe wanted to wait, and his name was Jimmy: the man currently sleeping the morning away in her bed. Just Jimmy's presence alone made him resentful. Especially at this very moment, when Chloe was writhing underneath him because of his kisses and his affectionate attention, jealousy bubbled over in his heart like molten lava.

_How could she possibly give Jimmy a chance? How could she ever want Jimmy more than him?_

"Why not?" he asked, pretending the voice of reason in his head didn't exist and pretending they didn't have to consider Jimmy's feelings. He trailed wet kisses along her throat, and then kissed her gently on the lips. "Why should we wait?"

Chloe could hardly think straight when he suddenly moved, shifting his body so he was on top of her completely. He balanced his weight with his arms, which were pressed into the mattress on either side of her. He kissed her lips once more, then nuzzled her shoulder and gyrated his hips against her insistently, pushing his erection gently between her thighs. Her arms looped their way around to his back, and for a moment she considered giving in. It would be so easy, so very easy to tell him she wanted this. Making love to Clark has been her dream since she's met him. Having him return her need with as much, or even more, fervor than in her own heart excited her more than she expected. In fact, she trembled at the thought, trembled underneath him like loving him was her entire world. The one and only world she wanted to live in. Her fingers found the clasp of his jeans, drawn to his bulge like bees to honey.

_Jimmy ... I can't, not with him in the next room ... I can't._

"Because we have to," she whispered into his hair, as she slowly moved her hands back to his chest.

He stopped the gentle, upward thrusting of his hips. "I don't want to wait," he protested defiantly, even as he settled his body beside her, back to where he started. Laying his head to her shoulder, he offered hopefully, "I can take us somewhere to talk."

Chloe kissed his forehead. "Jimmy's still sleeping. I can't just go AWOL on him, especially when he risked his life for me. We're still officially coupling, and there's still a crazy werewolf determined to make me his next entrée. There're miles of red tape for us to break through before we can let this happen."

"Red tape or excuses?" Clark argued, pressing his lips against her cheek to counter the sting in his words.

She looked to him, slightly aggravated. "Upsetting me only makes the waiting line for sex longer."

Clark lifted up on his elbow to gaze into her eyes. "You know that's not what I'm waiting for," he insisted, running his hand down across her stomach.

"Oh yeah? Which sign did I misread? Your hips thrusting like an animal in heat, or the bulge you've been nudging between my thighs?"

"No. Of course I want to have sex with you ... I ... I just ...," he stammered, wishing he could say it.

"What?" Chloe asked irritably, lifting herself up with her hands. "What can't you tell me?"

Clark felt his stomach tighten nervously. The words he had practiced stopped somewhere between his heart and his mouth, upsetting him and angering Chloe all the more. Why couldn't he say it? Just say it? He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to summon the courage he needed, yet nothing came. Only the deafening sound of his own excuses formed at the tip of his tongue, and without a second's notice, he heard himself speak. "It can wait - when we have the chance to talk."

Chloe sat up completely, forcing Clark to lean back to give her room. She looked down to him knowingly, and cupped his face in her hands. "I know I'm making you walk through the gauntlet here. I just don't want to be wrong about this. About us."

He placed his hand on her waist. "Me neither."

"You mean too much to me."

"So do you."

"And Jimmy," she added, hating that she had to say it. But she did. "Jimmy's been good to me. I like him."

Clark cleared his throat, watching his fingers as they traced the waistline of her pajama bottoms. "I know."

"Do you?" she asked.

He glanced up to her and considered her meaning. After a moment he simply nodded, though he sensed that was not the answer she wanted. But it was the only answer he could give right now.

Sighing heavily, Chloe pulled away from him and climbed off the mattress. He followed her lead and stood from the right side, the same side he climbed into the mattress by the night before. When he turned to her, he watched as she gathered the blankets to fold them neatly. Clark grabbed her grandmother's quilt and folded it with care, all the while waiting for her to say something. To say anything.

And when she finally gave him what he wished for, it was not what he expected to hear. Not exactly, anyway.

"Meet you at the Planet in a few hours?"

Clark nodded and placed the folded quilt in the chair next to the couch. "Definitely. We still have a few suspects to interview. And I wanted to look through the werewolf books once more, in case we missed anything."

"I want to look through the Wall of Weird case files. Kryptonite is the cornerstone of this case, and we haven't considered it heavily enough."

Clark smirked knowingly. "You have a lot of files. It's going to take time."

"Well, it's what I do," Chloe replied, folding the last blanket and placing it on the floor. "Look through meaningless grains of sand to find the diamond. Investigation at its best."

"You're the best I've seen."

She pushed at the end of the mattress to force it back into place, but when it didn't move, Clark quickly came to her aid and folded it up in one swift motion. It fit neatly into the couch, and once the cushions were back in their spot, the living room looked normal again. Aesthetically, _everything_ looked normal again.

"You flirted with me all morning. Had to get one more stroke of brimming flattery in before you left, huh?"

Clark stepped up to her and drew her into his embrace. Thankfully, and surprisingly, she didn't resist in the least. She circled her arms around him and rested her head on his chest, just above his heart. And listened to it's song. "If you have trouble with Jimmy today, let me know."

"I resisted you, didn't I? I'm sure I can resist him," she chided, though neither laughed. Running her hand down his bare chest one more time, she ended her descent at the bulge still very present in his jeans. With a little smile, she feathered the tent with her fingertips, and barely heard his soft gasp. But it was there, hidden in his throat. "Better take a shower before you come to the Planet. Just a suggestion."

"If you came with me, we could cross another one of my fantasies off the list."

"Clark Kent … an innocent teenager turned insatiable sex addict by the age of twenty?"

"Maybe," he whispered softly in her hair, smiling.

Clark pulled away from her, though regretfully. He grabbed his shirt from the chair next to the couch, and slipped it back on - much to Chloe's disappointment. Next he placed his shoes on, and finally adorned his famous red jacket. Strangely, he looked almost the same as always, dressed completely as when she first saw him sitting on her steps. Yet Chloe also saw something else. Looking upon him, she no longer saw her best friend. _Best friend _just didn't seem to fit as snugly as before, as it did last night before he slipped into her bed.

"See you later," he said.

Chloe nodded, about to say something sarcastic in return, but he didn't let her. Cupping her face, he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips heatedly against hers. The kiss was just as passionate and needy as those they shared a few minutes earlier. But this time under his lips she sensed a flavor of something different, or something far more potent than pure desire, or plain ecstasy. Under his lips, as their tongues touched intimately, she felt bathed in the warm glow of love. It burned between them like wildfire, set ablaze in spite of what neither could say to each other.

Slowly he released her, but not before she bit down lightly on his bottom lip. The wet, lasting impression of her lips on his mouth ensured he wouldn't forget her kiss throughout the day, giving him something to hold onto until they could do it again.

Smiling down into her eyes, he whispered, "Thank you. For letting me stay."

"Not a problem," she replied breathlessly. "All superheroes taking residence on my door step are permitted fresh sheets and a good night's sleep on arrival."

He walked backwards towards her door, letting her fingers slip from his hand. But he held her gaze. "Bye."

Chloe smiled. "Bye."

Clark turned from her, opened the door, and left without another word. For a moment, Chloe just stood still, half-expecting him to come back through the door and tell her everything she wanted to hear. But the room remained silent, save for her breathing, and the sound of her heart pounding in her chest.

How close had she come to having sex with Clark? _Too close. Much too close. _Werewolves and angry boyfriends can make anyone blind to reality. Despite her feelings, and Clark's, the biggest test would come at the end. Would he still want her when the werewolf was dead? And would she still want him when Jimmy finally came back to his senses? Jimmy has been wonderful to her, and she wouldn't trade one moment with him for anything. Honestly, she wasn't entirely sure if she was ready to give up on him quite yet.

Just the same, she wouldn't trade her night, or her morning in bed with Clark for anything, either.

So when the equilibrium of the world returned to normal, she had a decision to make. A huge decision. She knew it. And though she and Clark had reason to wait, Chloe wished for the clarity their talk would give her.

She wished Clark would come back through her door and never leave.

Chloe turned away from the door after a few moments, but not because she felt the stare coming from her bedroom. However, there was no way to miss it when she looked in that direction. Shame ran cold through her veins the second she realized what had conspired, and she struggled to think of the words to say to explain her unusual actions. She hated people who cheated on their significant others, yet it was exactly what she doing with Clark, even if nothing had happened yet.

By the look on his face, Jimmy had clearly seen _something_ from his concealed spot behind her bedroom door.

Something that made his cheeks flare red ... and eyes burn yellow.

**0000000000000000000000000**

_**to be continued … **_


	17. Everything She Needs

**Episode Seventeen: Everything She Needs**

**0000000000000000000000000000000**

The rest of the morning Clark tended to the early chores on the farm. After he came home from Metropolis, he quickly took the shower Chloe suggested to cleanse away the night, to relieve his desire. In little time he was back at work in the barn, feeding the animals and performing the tasks needed to keep a small farm running smoothly. All the while, just like every morning, Clark could not help but think about his life, particularly Chloe and the morning he spent with her in bed. _In bed_. Not in a coffee shop for an early morning bagel and coffee, or even at her desk for an early meeting. No, he had spent the morning with her in bed, in a place he had dreamt to find himself in since the impression of her kiss in the middle of worldly chaos left him breathless.

Clark smiled delightfully with the thought, with the memories from their kiss at the Planet and this morning cemented into his brain. She had felt wonderful underneath him, responding to him like a seasoned lover, even when she denied him. Of course, she made sense. All of this was so new to them, especially within their friendship. For years they've tiptoed around each other because of childhood sweat hearts, first loves, and their refusal to risk what they couldn't live without. Considering the role Chloe has played in his life recently, he had reason to worry if something went wrong while they dated. What if the fallout was ugly enough to end their friendship for good? What if he never saw her again? He hated the way he and Lana separated, and how they currently made the extra effort to avoid each other at all costs.

He didn't _want_ that with Chloe. He couldn't _handle_ that with Chloe.

It could also go the other way, however. Chloe could be his one and only true love, and the possibility alone made his heart anxiously skip a beat. Could it be? Could he have been, all this time, working side by side with his soul mate and not known it until now? Was Chloe the one he has been waiting for all this time?

Fact was, Chloe already knew everything about him, including his true origins and his abilities. So there were very few major secrets in their friendship left, safe for the few abnormalities he couldn't wait to discover. He longed to know her so well that he could finish her sentences, know where she escaped when in pain, and be the one she turned to in times of distress. Furthermore, he longed to have her know him just as intimately. There were very few people in his life that he trusted completely, but Chloe was certainly one of them. In a time when he felt truly alone, he craved her companionship to rescue him from the depths of his personal reverie. Just once he wanted to come home and know someone was waiting for him. Someone to draw him into her arms, promise him safety, and whisper affectionate words of love that would never falter.

After a few hours of hard work in the barn, Clark emerged needing another shower before he met up with Chloe. Once he was dressed, cleaned, and presentable, he left a note for his mother of where he would be for most of the day. She and Lois had left for early morning meetings long before he had come home, and not knowing when he would return - especially if Chloe invited him back to her apartment - he thought it best to tell them he was okay.

Clark took a pit stop at the Talon for decent coffee, and then super sped into Metropolis a few minutes later. He had the path to the Daily Planet memorized now, down to every niche and alleyway he could use if he needed to reach the building quickly without being seen. The security officers in the lobby even knew him by face because he came here so often recently. They merely waved him hello, an older gentlemen and a younger one, as he passed them to the steps leading down to the basement.

"Here to see the blonde again?" the younger one asked, leaning back against the lobby desk.

Clark nodded and slowed his step. "Yeah, she's expecting me."

The older officer stared at him for a moment, then informed, "You know, I don't think she's come through yet."

"Really?"

"I think you're right," the young officer replied, gesturing to his superior. "I usually remember her face. Cute and sexy, it's hard to miss her."

Clark smirked as he reached the top of the stairs. "Well, if she's not here yet, I'm sure she'll be here any minute."

The younger officer smiled pleasantly. "Do you know if she's still with that quirky photographer? I've been thinking about asking her out."

"Uh, I think she's still taken," Clark said nervously, hoping the officer would drop the subject. Clark had powerful abilities, but he didn't think he could ward off two men from Chloe at the same time. Jimmy was more than enough.

The older officer shook his head. "She's too good for you anyway, Dave."

"Maybe," the other one conceited quietly. When he turned to Clark to ask his opinion, Clark was long gone down the steps. Smiling wide, he turned back to his older friend. "I told you," he murmured, pointing to where Clark last stood. "He's totally sleeping with her. Didn't I tell you? You owe me twenty bucks."

"You obsess like an angst-ful teenager," the older officer joked. "We've seen them together a lot lately. But until we see a kiss, or hand holding, or anything like it, I'm not giving you a dime."

Clark neglected to hear the rest of the conversation between the two officers. He had slipped away once given the chance, certain he didn't want to hear anymore. There were far more important subjects to waste his time with, and discussing Chloe's love life - a love life that still didn't involve him - was not high on his list. Strangely, Clark started to realize how popular Chloe had truly become in this world of investigation and high-class media. She was no longer the weird, socially rejected editor of the school newspaper who never had a boyfriend in high school, outside of a fling with Jimmy. Chloe wanted Clark then, and more than once offered to up the intensity of their relationship if he was ready. Each time he rejected her, and he would even blame their separation after the Spring Formal on himself, as well. Because he certainly didn't fight her decision to remain friends, nor did he give her a reason to believe he felt more.

And actually, at the time, he wasn't positive he felt anything other than platonic love; at least nothing more powerful than what he had felt for Lana, which disgusted him as he thought of it now. Chloe was just as much of a treasure then as she is now, and it had taken him years to realize it. He wasted so much time chasing after the wrong girl.

Now Chloe Sullivan had turned into this spunky, incredibly intelligent, sexy, and cute investigative reporter on the brink of stardom. Every man she came in contact with wanted to be apart of her life, and not just as a friend. Seems Jimmy knew what she had to offer all along, because both then in high school, and now at the Planet, with every other man looking her way, he had staked his claim.

As someone who was once the object of her affection, he suddenly found himself buried in a long line of suitors all eager for her attention. Jeremy, Jimmy, Carlos ... and now David, the security officer who watched her come in and out of the Planet everyday. Did she still place him, Clark Kent, her best friend, on a pedestal above the rest, as she did so often in high school? Or did he miss the chance to have her all to himself? Frankly, after the years of rejection he forced her to survive, he probably deserved to spend some time out in the cold waiting for her to open the door of her heart, to give him a chance. He had a chance this morning to tell her what he truly felt for her, yet he shied away, fearing she would reject him. Unlike him, Chloe made the leap of faith more than once when she admitted her feelings for him in the past.

So why couldn't he do the same? Why was he letting his fears take control?

Clark reached the doors to the bullpen of the basement floor, and noticed the security officers had been right. Chloe had not arrived yet. He glanced to his watch and realized he had arrived a few minutes early. So there was still time for her to show up before he had reason to worry. In the meantime, Clark decided to bring up the list of twenty-seven names he compiled on her computer the night before, all of whom had "O" negative blood type and employee status at the Daily Planet. He crossed off the names of those he interviewed yesterday, leaving only fifteen left. After he figured where each remaining suspect worked in the Daily Planet, he took the list and decided to start off on his own. Chloe, a half hour later, had still not arrived or called him to inform him she would be late. Slight worry snaked into his heart, but he decided to take the situation more seriously if he returned and Chloe was still nowhere in sight. She could be late or stuck in traffic just as easily as anyone else. No need to panic just yet.

With the list of fifteen names in his hand, Clark traveled to the various sections of the Planet to conduct his interviews. A few employees worked in the factory section of the building, where the paper was actually printed. Four of the fifteen, through the whine of printing machines and fork trucks driving by, reassured Clark they were no where near the crime scenes, or Luthor Park a few nights prior. The last eleven employees were scattered among the varying offices, and he trekked for hours through the labyrinth of hallways and floors of the building to locate and speak to each one. However, they all had an alibi that could be substantiated by a family member, lover, or friend.

A few had actually known one or more of the victims by name or face. One person in particular noticed Julie's odd behavior a few days before she died. When Clark mentioned the possibility of a stalker, the coworker couldn't say one way or the other, claiming Julie kept much of her life confidential. But a stalker could be likely.

Unfortunately, very few remembered details of Erika, the first victim. Too much time had passed since she had died - at least too much time within the fast paced world of the Daily Planet. And since the third victim, Abigail, had only been there for six months, coworkers could barely recall her name and what she looked like, let alone her daily routine or the presence of something suspicious in her life. All in all, Clark emerged from his busy morning having learned nothing new, and still with no Chloe Sullivan to speak of.

Clark made his way down into the basement once all of his interviews were finished. He promised to make a slight fuss of Chloe's absence, and make sure she realized how much of _her_ case he had finished. Of course, because her life was in danger, he had no problem taking the time to help her in anyway he could. But he wasn't going to let the opportunity pass to jokingly complain.

But when he walked back into the basement bullpen, Chloe's desk looked the same as he left it a few hours ago. Chloe's jacket was not on the back of her chair, nor was her purse on the floor or in any of the desk drawers for safekeeping. With strengthening concern, Clark hurried to her desk to ensure he hadn't missed anything to testify to his friend's presence. Papers he had studied were still strewn across the desktop haphazardly, and her computer had long since slipped into sleep mode due to lack of use. If Chloe had been here, remnants of her first three cups of coffee for the day would be on her desk or in the trash. But there were no cups in either spot. And the morning had turned swiftly into early afternoon while he interviewed suspect after suspect on his list.

No Chloe Sullivan in the office yet meant something had gone seriously wrong, and the time to worry had come.

Clark took his cell phone out from his coat pocket and quickly dialed her cell phone number. He listened worriedly while the call rang and rang, and finally dropped in her voicemail after the sixth unanswered tone. Grimacing, he hung up and dialed her home phone, but listened to the same deafening, endless rings, followed close by her answering machine when no one picked up. Maybe she left already and was stuck in traffic, just as he suspected. And maybe Jimmy was still fast asleep, so he didn't hear the phone ring. But no matter the comfort these thoughts gave him, Clark still found it strange that Chloe didn't let him know she would be late. Even if Jimmy had taken a turn for the worse and she had been forced to take him to emergency room, she still would have called him on her way, or when the rush had subsided, to let him know her situation. Not hearing anything from her in over six hours, especially after the special morning they shared together in bed, just didn't feel right at all.

Surged through with adrenaline, Clark ran up the stairs, through the lobby, and to the street outside of the Daily Planet. He searched quickly for an alleyway safe from the public eye, and then super sped towards the other end of the city, back to her apartment. Actually, he didn't care much if someone happened to see him using his powers, because all that mattered now was Chloe's safety. And as he came close to her building a few seconds later, he was certain the reason for her tardiness would be blatantly clear the moment he entered her apartment. Maybe she had more trouble with Jimmy than she suspected, and he refused to let her leave while he was injured.

Maybe he tried to force himself on her.

Just the thought alone increased Clark's speed, and in seconds he had zipped through the building entrance, up the stairs, and into her apartment. But rather than surprising Chloe with his presence, or hearing her playfully berate him for being so worried, he heard and saw nothing of the kind. For what he did see was not at all what he expected, but nevertheless made horrific sense.

The living room area looked like a war zone. End table lamps were broken and on the floor, couch cushions were turned over, and chairs to the small table next to the living room window were cracked in pieces. Papers Chloe had been studying for the case were also scattered on the floor, along with newspaper, and Clark instantly remembered they were stacked neatly on the table before he left. The blankets he and Chloe used to sleep with, and had folded so neatly, were in disarray in various locations around the apartment.

The kitchen seemed to survive the attack, leaving Clark to believe most of the action had occurred in the same room he spent the night with Chloe. Heart pounding in his chest, he ran to her bedroom and looked inside, hoping to see Jimmy. But he, too, had disappeared.

Clark continued to search the apartment, all the while calling for both Jimmy and Chloe to emerge from some secret hiding place within the tiny apartment. Of course, to search the apartment thoroughly took him less than two minutes, and when he finally powered down and stood motionless in the center of the living room his heart sank in tremendous fear. He listened carefully for any sign of breathing, or movement, and his eyes continued to scour the room with super vision. But nothing helpful appeared save for the obvious evidence of a scuffle in the room he currently stood.

However, just as he was ready to stop looking and run back to the Planet for answers, his eyes fell upon a spot on the floor, barely hidden behind the couch. It was something he could have easily missed in his frantic search, yet once seen he wondered how he ever could have overlooked it. His legs turned to rubber when he tried to walk closer, as if warning him of the sight to come. But he continued to walk, determined to see what his heart already knew. Bravely he stepped around the corner of the couch and kneeled down to inspect the scene closer.

On Chloe's carpet, the same she bought in a bargain department outlet for her college dorm room, he found spots of blood. One larger stain, oval shaped and almost eighteen inches in diameter, was in the middle and surrounded by a splattering of smaller stains, arranged in such a way like one of those connect the dot games in a children's coloring book. Long strings of hair, not blonde but brown and course, lingered around the blood like fireflies. Course and rough, the hair could only mean one thing - werewolf. Tentatively he reached his hand to the larger pool of blood, and quickly discovered it had dried, meaning the incident had not happened too recently. Swallowing hard, he stood up and contemplated what should be done next. His heart wanted to run around the world until he found Chloe, and make the person responsible dearly pay for what was done.

But running around the world with nothing but revenge in his heart would only make the search longer, and waste time. He needed direction, no matter the fire in his veins prompting him to let all of his inhibitions go. Since he found no Chloe, or Jimmy, it meant both could still be alive, which gave him hope. Obviously the werewolf had come back to Chloe, and since it can't change completely until nightfall, the man behind the beast could have easily hidden his intentions till the very last second. Chloe probably had no idea what was in front of her when confronted by it. And perhaps the werewolf decided to save his meal for later, when he was in full uniform.

Yet Clark remembered the testimonies from witnesses and police officers from the previous three cases, all describing the haste in the werewolf's eating habits. Chloe herself had told Clark that Abigail's body had been gutted and eaten away almost immediately, like a scavenger to a freshly dead carcass. And suddenly the reassurance that Chloe was still alive drained from his heart, making him even angrier. Making him sad and discouraged, because the end result of this entire case could cost him dearly. His lungs tightened at the thought of losing Chloe, and before he had the chance to tell her everything she needed to know.

_Did she know? _

_How I think of her every waking moment, and long to be the one she needs. I imagine making love to her, over and over again until our bodies are sheathed in sweat, and our hearts can no longer speak. I ache when she's not around, when she spends needless time with someone else. _

_Does she know I could love her more than him?_

_Does she know I would die for her?_

Clark placed his head in his hands and whispered her name like a prayer. Closely he listened as the apartment drew quiet, hoping to hear her desperate screams of his name for help. He heard the cry of a baby, the whistle of a police officer, and the laughter of children on a nearby playground. Cars honking, people shouting, and birds singing - he could hear it all, each sound distinguishable from the other. But no Chloe ... no heartbeat, no cry for help, and no whispers in his ear. Strangely, if he closed his eyes, he felt teleported back to that morning, with her nestled snugly in his arms. Her kisses had been so sweet, yet so passionate and hungry. The taste of her lips still lingered on his mouth, just as he believed it would. But now he feared the ghostly touch of her kiss might haunt him forever.

If this case took her life, he knew he would never forgive himself.

He knew what he had to do. He had to go back to the Planet and keep digging, but do so with a far more rigorous purpose. Though his list of twenty-seven suspects deemed no results, he still believed Chloe's hunch had some validity. The stalker, by the selectivity of the victims, had to have some ties to the Planet. Clark briefly considered subscription customers, and grimaced when he realized how long it might take to investigate each and every one. Neither he, nor Chloe, could waste time investigating in that direction.

The Wall of Weird list of meteor freaks was a possible avenue, and one Chloe had promised to embark upon once she arrived at the Planet. Though any other day he wouldn't waste the time searching through such a large database, the presence of kryptonite and her current absence convinced Clark to give her files a good look. Otherwise he had to go back to square one, and give his own list some further consideration. He was so certain his attempt to cross-reference the blood type at the scene with Daily Planet employees would produce the suspect. Unfortunately, at least for now, his list had come up with empty results.

When he considered involving the police in his search, he suddenly realized he had not yet informed them of the break in or Chloe's kidnapping. After he called the police and told them what had happened, they promised to send a squad immediately and asked him to stay at the scene so he could answer questions when they arrived. Begrudgingly, he agreed and spent the time waiting to replay each interview he conducted in the past twenty-four hours over in his mind. In less than a half hour, the police arrived with a crime scene investigation team. And while the latter took prints and samples from the apartment, Clark answered as many questions as he could for the detective, Carlos Sanchez – the same who seemed to have a romantic interest in Chloe. Right now, if the detective's interest could make him work harder to find her, Clark welcomed it.

Another half hour passed before the police gave Clark the freedom to leave. He raced back to the Planet as quickly as possible, recalling everything he had to do on his way there. He _had _to continue on with the investigation, no matter the results. He had to continue on as if he would find Chloe at the end, waiting for him to save her. He couldn't give up on her now, not when she was depending on him. Deep in his heart, he knew she was waiting. Face stricken with tears, tied up, with werewolves hovering around her, Chloe was quietly calling his name.

He had to keep going. He had to continue the investigation alone.

Because only he could save her.

**0000000000000000000000**

**_to be continued_**


	18. White Knight

_Where have all the good men gone  
And where are all the gods?  
Where's the street-wise Hercules  
To fight the rising odds?  
Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?  
Late at night I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need _

I need a hero  
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night  
He's gotta be strong  
And he's gotta be fast  
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight  
_  
I need a hero  
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light  
He's gotta be sure  
And it's gotta be soon  
And he's gotta be larger than life_

_- Holding Out For a Hero, from … Shrek 2_

_**0000000000000000000000**_

**Episode Eighteen: White Knight**

**0000000000000000000000000**

The list of twenty-seven names never changed over the course of the next two hours, no matter how often or how long Clark stared at it. When he returned to the Planet a few hours ago he immediately went straight to Chloe's desk, and didn't even question his permission to sit in her chair. A few of Chloe's coworkers eyed him curiously when he sat down, but he merely ignored them. In a few clicks he made his way into Chloe's Wall of Weird files on her computer, all of which were categorized and searchable. She had made improvements to her personal database over the years, and the original 'Wall" in _The Torch _office was far removed from the technologically advanced system she currently placed all of her paranormal files in. He had been right, of course - she had more files than he had time to count, and it made him realize Chloe's exceptional investigative skills. He had never met anyone else that possessed the same dedication and type of expertise as she.

Regardless of the search-ability of her system, Clark still struggled to find anything of value. Of course, he was not Chloe, so he had no idea what cases or files she had in mind. Over the next hour or so, he searched through the rabbit hole of meteor-infected people, meteor accidents, and deaths of all the meteor rock infected victims since the first meteor shower. Having two meteor showers over the course of the past 17 years only made the search more confusing, because it vastly added to the overall number of victims infected by kryptonite. Not only that, but there were still a number of victims of the second meteor shower that have surely not been found yet, so there was no telling how their werewolf happened to come into contact with the deadly green rock.

With no solution in sight, Clark gave up the search and decided to stick to his original list. Time was wasting away, and the late afternoon was turning quickly into evening. Darkness would be upon them soon, leaving Clark with the need to make important decisions before it was too late. Once the werewolf emerged, Chloe may have very little time indeed.

Clark printed copies of the twenty-seven names, plus the entire Daily Planet employee list. He scanned both lists carefully, each time going through the names with a different idea. All the while, he turned back to his books on werewolves, the same he and Chloe had studied while back in his kitchen over the weekend. It almost seemed like a lifetime ago since they investigated together at the Kent table, having no idea the next day would give them their second, passionate, mutual kiss of their lives. If told then that he would spend a night with Chloe in her apartment on her pullout couch a few nights later, he wouldn't have believed them. Chloe and Jimmy had looked so confident together, as if only something drastic could break them apart.

Then again, maybe _he was _that drastic reason all along. Because why would Chloe even risk sleeping in the same bed with him if she were with another man? Maybe that kiss after their dance at the Smallville Fall Festival meant more to her than she had let on.

Relationship puzzles aside, Clark didn't have time to debate the reasons why both of them came so close to giving into one another that morning. Clark, if for not Chloe's insistence, would have made love to her right then. Soon, very soon he believed, the two of them would be back in that same situation. And the next time, they wouldn't hesitate to give themselves to each other. Clark could already feel her tight heat engulfing him as he pressed into her, deeply but carefully. Because, of course, this would be the first time making love with his powers intact, so caution would clearly be present in his actions. But she would guide him, as she always did, and insist he keep going. In his ears, she would whisper how much she trusted him and how she's waited for this moment to arrive.

And he would tell her in no time in his life as he ever felt this complete, as when he's buried deep inside of her, pulsating against her.

With these images laminated to his brain, Clark searched even more fervently than before. He flipped through the pages of the book on werewolves, searching for any type of clue he might have missed. He was sure he had written everything down, but something seemed amiss. He had debated on asking Lois to help him investigate and look through the vast amount of material. But he realized immediately that she would only slow him down, because he wouldn't be able to use his powers in front of her. Not to mention, he just didn't feel right about trusting her with something like this.

Just as Clark made his third trip through the book, his quick eyes caught on to something he hadn't seen before. The distraction of his attention on Chloe the first time he read through this book at his kitchen table on Saturday, and now on making love to her, probably had something to do with the reason why he overlooked something so important over the past few days. But the second his eyes crossed over the information this time, everything fell drastically into place. Victims of werewolf attacks that survived, but were also slashed by its claws or bitten by its teeth, were instantly infected with the mystical, lycanthropic virus and could change into a werewolf themselves. Both Zachary and Jimmy showed aggressive behavior after their respective attacks, and the werewolf had injured both of them.

Throw in the presence of kryptonite, which could have been transferred over to the victims from the original werewolf because of a chemical attachment to the virus, and the explanation of Zachary's sudden disappearance in the hospital became instantly crystal clear. The kryptonite, from Clark's own werewolf attack, seemed to give the werewolf unimaginable strength. Zachary could have easily busted through his own wall once he turned into the beast, and escaped.

And if Zachary turned into a werewolf ... it meant Jimmy turned into one, as well.

Clark felt his stomach churn sickly when he realized he had left Chloe alone with Jimmy, just as he was beginning to turn into a werewolf. So the werewolf-like hair he found next to the bloodstain did not belong to the original werewolf, but to Jimmy. Considering his love for Chloe, it's safe to assume Jimmy might have spared her life this morning until he was completely overcome with the virus tonight.

So though he was searching for the original werewolf, now finding Chloe meant finding Jimmy.

And according to the book in his hands, the only way to reverse the infection was to kill the werewolf who gave the victim the virus.

With an exhausted sigh, Clark glanced back to the list of the twenty-seven names. Regardless of Jimmy's role here, the original werewolf was the reason why all of this happened in the first place. The original werewolf had the tendency towards blonde women to satisfy his hunger, and it was the original werewolf that attacked Chloe in the park. So even though Jimmy might have taken Chloe, Clark still believed the original werewolf had some influence here. Maybe the werewolves, now three total, found each other and formed a pack. Do werewolves form packs as ordinary wolves do? Possibly, and as an initiation of sorts, they might decide to feast on Chloe together tonight. It's likely that even though the virus recently infected him, Jimmy might have some sixth sense as to the location of the other two. If that were the case, he probably searched all day for his companions, and when he found them he might've hid Chloe in a secured spot until nightfall, where no one could find her.

In the end, it still came back to the identity of the original werewolf. If the first werewolf was at all established in his mythical illness, it's probable that he has some place he can go when he turns evil each and every night. His hidden lair could be the spot where Chloe is being kept.

It was a long shot, of course. His entire thought process was based on assumptions, possibilities, and circumstance. But Clark could feel Chloe talking to him, helping him think through the evidence they did have. Being a good investigative reporter meant following hunches and instinct, and Clark truly believed all of his answers drew back to the original werewolf.

Looking back to his list once more, Clark read through the names again and again, noting the addresses of each one. He had gone to many of the residents on the list. Some lived directly in the city, either by apartment or townhouse, while others had a small house in the suburbs. None of them seemed to fit neatly inside of the pre-packaged facade of how a werewolf would look or sound like when living the human half of its life. Granted, people could fool you, and he had no concrete evidence to suggest any one of these people on the list were or were not the werewolf.

Clark reached for the second page: the entire listing of all Daily Planet employees. He skimmed through the entire list one more time, but knew he was looking through a needle in a haystack. Close to five hundred people worked for the Planet in some form, which included office personnel, factory workers, and the people involved with the writing of the paper itself. Just like any virus, the lycanthropic virus wasn't prejudice, so assuming one type of employee over another wouldn't help a bit. Anyone could have it.

Seeing as the hard copy of the list wasn't helping much, he decided to bring up the lists on Chloe's computer. Outside the windows, nightfall continued to swallow minutes of daylight with each tick of the clock. He had little time left until he would have to drop everything and start searching. He hated to attack the problem in such a haphazard way, but lack of time may not permit anything else. With X-Ray vision alight, Clark could run through Metropolis, the suburbs, and the outlying areas as fast as he could. Hopefully something would draw his attention, and hopefully it would draw him in the right direction.

With all three lists up on the computer, Clark began to skim through each one looking for inconsistencies. In little time, he noticed the computer had counted the number of employees on the list, and displayed the number at the bottom - four hundred and eighty-three. An idea came to mind, and he quickly brought up the blood type medical listing for each employee. The latter list had four hundred and eighty-two names. Interest piqued, Clark took both lists and skimmed them separately. In short time, he found the one name that appeared on the employee listing, but not on the medical records list: Ethan Hannigan.

"Hannigan?" Clark whispered quietly to himself. "As in relation to Nathan Hannigan?"

Clark changed over to the general Daily Planet search page and typed Ethan Hannigan's name in the search box. Immediately it came up with a listing of his address, his age, as well as a next of kin: Nathan Hannigan, his brother. His older brother, as Clark figured. Ethan was listed as twenty-four years old, while his brother, Nathan, had just hit his thirtieth birthday not too long ago. Ethan worked on the janitorial staff at the Planet - a far cry from the success of his older brother. If Nathan knew of his brother's illness, it was likely he ensured Ethan's medical records were kept secret. Every employee, as per Chloe's own words, had to endure a physical exam before they came to work. Furthermore, Nathan's involvement might explain how Ethan's medical records were hidden so well from the police. Such an influential man as Nathan Hannigan could easily find ways to protect his family's problems, especially if he felt they would hurt him personally, and professionally.

Clark looked at the address again, and realized Ethan's home was located in a very small town outside of the city. So small that someone with Ethan's strange illness could easily hide.

Not just hide his illness ... but also a blonde reporter.

And in a flash, Clark was gone.

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

Super speed could not stop the curtain of night as it draped persistently across the sky. Stars emerged from behind their cloaks of daylight to shimmer beautifully next to the moon, now crescent in shape. Distant howls from wolves driven deep in the hills echoed off the night's walls like a warning, insisting all trespassers to turn away from the woods before it swallowed them up whole. On any other night, Clark would speed through the woods with no worry in his heart, certain he would come out the victor at the end of this inevitable confrontation. Yet his normal certainty crumbled into tiny pieces when he remembered how easily the werewolf handled him the last time they fought. Clark barely escaped then, and he was able to tell by Chloe's strong, tight embrace the morning after how close he came to losing his life.

He hoped this time would be much different.

Currently he trotted quietly, but quickly across the soft, damp ground in the woods that encircled Metropolis on the north side. He had no wish to announce his presence to the werewolves before he was ready to face them. Information suggesting how to kill a werewolf returned to his mind as he moved swiftly between tall trees and bushes. The book claimed the only way to take a werewolf's life was to burn it, drown it, or pierce its heart. Because Clark could not get too close to the werewolf, he had to think of something other than brutal force to the win the day. He considered using his heat vision again, but igniting something or someone in a tiny, wooden cabin, and knowing he could be weakened considerably at any point because of kryptonite's presence, Clark could not be certain of his ability to rescue Chloe before the fire grew out of control. He just couldn't take the risk.

So his options became two: drown the werewolf or pierce its heart. Clark chose the latter and carried a knife his father owned before he died. He could only hope it would do the trick. If everything went according to plan, he would surge into the cabin, kill the original werewolf with the knife, and rescue Chloe. Hopefully he could stand a good distance away from the werewolves and throw the knife like a dart to a dartboard. Any closer than ten feet would certainly be fatal.

He hated having to kill the original werewolf, who was a helpless man merely infected by a devastating virus he couldn't control. But Clark also couldn't let Jimmy and Zachary suffer from Ethan Hannigan's illness. Unfortunately, saving the latter two men was far more important.

The woods engulfed him little by little, with each step further into its darkness. By the directions the neighbor gave him, Ethan's cabin was located deep in the middle of the woods, hidden away from all curious eyes.

Gratefully, those same neighbors were able to give him details about Ethan's life. He rarely ventured out unless he had to go to work, and stayed mostly to himself. His brother made frequent, though short visits every week, but always came in the daytime. Sometimes he liked to hunt, but always did so by himself. Overall, there was very little activity to witness on a daily basis.

So when his closest neighbor, Harry Hanson, saw two strangers walk through the posted _No Trespassing_ signs as if they didn't exist, carrying something heavy on their backs, he quickly became suspicious. "I considered notifying the police," he told Clark a few minutes before. But he talked himself out of it when the people vanished and the normal silence of the woods had been restored. The cabin, from that point on, had stayed deathly quiet. And he made no attempt to investigate the disturbance any further.

Up ahead, through the tall trees and branches, Clark saw the emergence of a small cabin. It matched the description given to him by the neighbors, though only a tiny lamp in the window suggested anyone was home. Otherwise, just as he was told, the area felt as silent as a tomb save for a few howls from wolves, hoots from owls, and the rustle of bushes by nocturnal animals. His breath crystallized the second it touched the air, showing him how cold the temperature had dropped tonight. Given the conditions, Clark felt trapped in a twilight zone of hidden terror. No telling what might pop out from any direction, and no telling how his body would react. With kryptonite clearly present in this upcoming situation, the likelihood of him making a clear escape with Chloe in his arms dwindled every second he drew closer to the cabin.

But he had to try. He had to.

Clark searched the cabin with his X-ray vision, but nothing humanoid and skeletal appeared in his view. However, he dropped his gaze down below the ground and caught the skeletal outline of three huge beasts and one small damsel in distress, screaming his name amidst the sobs of terror. He super sped immediately into the cabin, caring little for the front door he crushed on his way through. He ended up in the living room of the cabin, and saw nothing or no one suspicious. Wind whipped through the tiny room while he looked around frantically for any clues. Just a second of searching and his X-ray vision found stairs underneath the hardwood floors, leading down into an entirely different level of the cabin. Clark walked over to the trapped door masquerading the stairwell and flipped it up and over. Doing so intensified the volume of the screams in his ears, reassuring him he was heading in the right direction.

A few steps down the stairwell and he could already feel the debilitating effects of the kryptonite on his system. Though Clark tried to proceed quietly, hoping to catch the werewolves in surprise, by the time he reached the middle of the long, wooden stairwell, two of the beasts turned from their half-eat meals to stare in his direction. The bottom floor of this little cabin consisted of two rooms; a larger room connected by a smaller one towards the back. The larger room, the one Clark currently stood in, had walls of stone covered by moss and eaten away by the earth. Carcasses from previous victims were strewn across the floor, forgotten when the last shred of meat was eaten off the bones. Clark wearily noticed the remains were not only human, but also animal, such as rabbits, deer, and small rodents. For the first time, Clark was happy his strong sense of smell was hindered by the presence of kryptonite. He had no wish to smell the foul stench of decaying animals on any intense scale.

Through the doorway connecting the two rooms, Clark saw the third werewolf hovering over a petite form stretched out completely on a wooden table. The continuous screams coming from the woman were distinct and clear, and the cries for help were the same he's heard a million times before.

The werewolf standing in the second room appeared to be Jimmy's other half due to the special attention he was giving his captive. He also wore a wristwatch that Clark could identify as Jimmy's, because he remembered the younger man wearing the accessory last night. When the werewolf turned to see who had dared to interrupt them, Chloe's eyes caught glimpse of Clark standing motionless on the steps.

"Clark!" she screamed, tugging helplessly at her bonds.

Clark's heart twisted with disgust when he realized how little Chloe was wearing. Or rather, how much of her was exposed. She still wore her tank top and pajama bottoms from that morning, though the fabrics of clothing were hardly recognizable. Her tank top had been cut down the middle, exposing the swell of her breasts, and her pajama bottoms and panties had been shredded, leaving only a few pieces still dangling from her legs. By the deep cuts across her abdomen, face, and side, she had fought off Jimmy's ravish advances as best she could. However, the look of desperation in her face spoke volumes of Clark's timing, as did the look of anger and frustration in Jimmy's yellow eyes.

"Chloe!" he shouted back desperately. The werewolf on his left looked to him curiously, and by the familiar tint of rage in its eyes Clark quickly realized the beast was his attacker from Friday night. With a tight grunt, he threw the knife towards it immediately, aiming for its chest, but the werewolf merely batted it away like a baseball, sending it flying across the room.

Once Clark's first idea failed miserably, he tried to shift his speed into super mode to rescue Chloe in a quick _swipe and run_.

But the closer he came to the first two werewolves, the weaker his powers became. He barely made it down the steps before the werewolves in the first room surged towards him angrily, claws drawn. The werewolf on the right reached him first, and Clark ducked just in time to miss the fatal descent of its claws to his throat. Clark gritted his teeth against the sickness bubbling at his core, and pushed the first werewolf off to the side with a normal dose of strength.

However, the second werewolf had far more luck. It lunged immediately after the first, giving Clark no time to plan an evasive action. Sharp claws slashed through the thin layer of his red coat and sweater, across the middle of Clark's chest, causing him to yelp at the sudden shock of pain. Clark tried to push the second off of him, but the werewolf merely took him by the shoulders and threw him hard against the wall, closer to his first attacker. He landed with a loud thud on to the stone floor.

The first werewolf bared his teeth and tried to strike Clark in the chest once more and pierce his heart. But Clark had acutely rolled away and made the first werewolf miss him a second time. He immediately jumped to his feet, but the second werewolf had him pinned to the wall behind the steps, facing away from them, before he had a chance to go on the offensive. The original werewolf didn't let the chance go to waste, and stabbed Clark deeply in his lower back. Clark grunted loudly when those kryptonite laced claws dug through his muscles, and for a moment he considered that maybe this was supposed to be his fate all along. Risking his life for the woman he loved, dying for her, didn't seem so bad in the end, right? He could die with honor in that.

The werewolf drew his claws out from Clark's body slowly, only to stab him again just a few inches closer to his lungs. Clark screamed in agony as sweat dripped slowly down his face, and writhed helplessly underneath the werewolf's assault. He tried weakly to trip the werewolf with his feet, but it merely sidestepped out of the way. Clark then shoved backwards with all of his dwindling strength, sending them both tumbling back onto the stone floor below them. The werewolf fell further backwards than Clark, and barely missed the steps as he landed towards the middle of the room. Clark ended up right next to the stairwell, his head having just missed the hand railing on his way down. He wanted to jump to his feet as before, but the pain in his back and chest gave him little strength to move let alone go on the offensive.

And before Clark knew what was happening, the first werewolf pulled him up and tossed him across the room like a doll. He landed hard against the walls of stone on the right, and fell to the floor in a motionless heap. Pain did not adequately describe the intense feelings surging through his body. Dealing with the kryptonite was bad enough, but being beaten by two werewolves in a tiny room was almost too much to handle.

Clark struggled to rise to a kneeling position, and groaned when he felt another devastating stab to his side, then his back, making him drop helplessly back to the floor. Blood spewed from his chest and back while he laid there, cheek pressed against the cold stone. He watched groggily as his blood pooled underneath him, ballooning in circumference like a tipped can of red paint spilling on the ground. His lips and tongue tasted like copper, and he realized blood was dribbling from the corner of his mouth. The werewolf must have seriously injured him this time if blood was coming up from his throat.

Strong, animal hands hauled him to his feet, and then threw him across the room where he landed with a thud on the stone floor, close to the doorway leading into the second, smaller room. Clark moaned loudly when he felt something in his right leg crack with the impact, and he rolled weakly to his back. He tried desperately to catch his breath, to fight the pain suffocating his body. But in a few moments his eyes started to close. The simplicity of letting himself go seemed far more alluring every second he wallowed in this unbearable pain. It would be so easy to give up.

Then he heard the lovely echo of her voice, a stunning symphony battling the clouds blanketing his consciousness.

"Clark!" she shouted, jostling her bonds and the table as Jimmy struggled to climb on top of her. She had seen the entire episode of Clark's beating unfold in front of her like a bad dream, often closing her own eyes to will away the horrific scene. At the moment she couldn't keep her eyes off of him, terribly shocked by the blood covering his body. _His_ blood, crimson, alien and special. It flowed out of his body like a river, and she wondered if he could handle losing anymore.

With Jimmy currently hovering her body, masked by animal rage and covered with hair, Chloe knew only Clark could help her. In his seriously injured state, only he could save her.

"Please, Clark," she beckoned, drawing her eyes down to Jimmy's throbbing erection, inching ever so close. She wiggled and writhed continuously, tugging on her bonds hard as she begged for Clark's help. "Clark ... come on ... please, sweetie, get up," she called, glaring up at Jimmy's growling face, then back down to Clark's motionless form. The original werewolf, still standing in the other room, looked cautiously over at Clark's body to ensure he was dead. When Clark remained still, he turned back to finish his half-eaten rat - the meal the trespasser had interrupted.

But Chloe knew Clark wasn't dead. He couldn't be.

Her certainty, however, did not stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks.

"Clark ... you're my hero, Clark. Please ... You're the only one who can save us. I know it hurts, baby ... but please ... _we_ need you. _I_ need you."

Clark groaned softly, barely conscious.

"I love you, Clark. I've loved you from the first moment I saw you. I never stopped ... please," she whispered desperately. "I love you ... I love you so much. I don't care if you can't say it ... just please get up for me."

He stirred a little more, and Chloe smiled hopefully.

Yet Jimmy's intimate unwanted touch still came, as the tip of his erection brushed eagerly against her. Chloe reactively convulsed backwards, but the bonds on her wrists and ankles had little give. Jimmy snarled gleefully when he realized he had her successfully trapped, forcing her to comply with whatever he wanted. Even so, she still found a way to make her repulsion of the act to come known, and spit in the werewolf's face. He jerked his head away with disgust, then turned back to her and growled ferociously. Angered by his captive's refusal to surrender completely, the werewolf bared his teeth and stabbed Chloe deep in her left side. She shrieked at the top of her lungs in horrific shock, then let her head drop back to the table and slipped immediately into the dark warmth of unconsciousness, unable to handle the terrific pain one second more.

Clark's eyes snapped open when he heard Chloe's desperate, painful cry. He lifted his head to see what was happening, and found the werewolf still on top her, along with a new trail of blood dripping from the wound at her side, to the table, and pooling on the floor. Rage surged like electricity through his entire body when he saw what they had done to her, and he forced himself to a sitting position. The two werewolves in his room noticed Clark had suddenly stirred from his unconsciousness and made their way closer to make sure he didn't move again.

But their efforts were short-lived.

Clark knew there was only one thing he could do, despite the inherit danger sure to follow. Though hindered by the kryptonite, he had just enough juice left to shoot a short string of fire from his eyes. It missed both werewolves running towards him, yet lit the floor on the fire due to the presence of dry leaves and wood scattered all along the stone. The werewolves saw the glow of red and yellow jump up from the floor and shrieked immediately in fear. Both beasts in his room ran hurriedly to the stairs and escaped.

When Jimmy hesitated to leave, Clark turned to him. "Get away from her!" he shouted, as he shot another douse of heat in Jimmy's direction. Though small, the blast of heat striking the wall behind Chloe was enough to make Jimmy stumble off the table in shock. In seconds it leapt past both of them, escaped up the wooden stairwell, and vanished into the night.

Clark stood up quickly, gritting his teeth against the pain shooting through his leg, back, and chest. He walked gingerly over to Chloe's limp, half naked form, wishing she would somehow awake in the next few seconds to help him. However, the flames that lapped hungrily at the walls and ceiling told him they had little time before the entire cabin would be engulfed. He had to get both of them out immediately, and the only way to accomplish this was to carry Chloe to safety. On days when his strength was super, he could do the task with no trouble. But today, after weakened considerably by raged werewolves and kryptonite, Clark could barely walk out of this cabin himself let alone carry a foreign body out on his shoulders, as well. He just prayed he had enough strength left to save them.

With no more time to waste, he leaned over and picked Chloe up in his arms, with one arm under her legs and the other under her back. Her head dropped back loosely and her legs dangled lifelessly over his arm, bent at the knee. Yet Clark finally had her, save and sound in his protection. He carried her through the flames and to the stairwell. His right leg screamed with pain every time he moved, but he tried with all of his will to ignore it. He climbed the steps as fast as he could, then trotted through the living room and out through the doorway - the same he used when he entered. The dark night swallowed them immediately, and without his super vision to help, Clark found it difficult to see. Regardless, he kept moving until he felt they were at a safe distance from the cabin.

When he finally could not run anymore, Clark stopped and turned back to the cabin. They were more than a hundred yards away. Satisfied they were safe, he dropped exhaustedly to his knees on the soft ground, hidden safely within the labyrinth of trees, and placed Chloe next to him. He panted hard as he tried to catch his breath, faintly going over what just happened in his mind. After a few moments of silence, he scanned Chloe for injuries. Other than lacerations scattered all across her body, she only suffered from a gash at her side. Though it looked deep, he had a feeling a few days in the hospital would be enough for it to heal.

Clark sighed deeply and dropped back to the grass next to Chloe. The adrenaline he had found in his heart and had used to save Chloe started to drain from his system. Pain from his injuries surged back to full strength, and suddenly his entire body felt like a big wound. Dried blood was caked on his chest, both from his injuries as well as Chloe's. His exertions caused more blood to ooze from those wounds, making the painless escape of unconsciousness feel even more desirable. He had saved Chloe, and that was all that mattered.

Suddenly a high-pitched shriek bellowed through the night, it's source just fifty yards away. Clark sat up and scoped the exterior of their position, and grimaced when he saw three outlines, colored in by the shadows from the moon, running towards them from the east. Frantically he searched the ground for anything sharp to use against the original werewolf, Ethan. Killing Ethan would still save Zachary and Jimmy from eternal transformation as a werewolf.

_Not just them_, Clark reminded himself, glancing back to Chloe. The wound at her side continued to spew blood. Now Chloe was in danger of the same fate. And even though Jimmy struck her, hopefully killing Ethan, the original source of the virus, would save them all.

Clark caught glimpse of a sharp, pointed stick and grabbed it. Though not a knife, the stick would have to do. He just hoped it was sharp enough to efficiently pierce the heart. Thrown with appropriate strength, it might just be enough to serve as a fatal projectile. Glancing up from the stick, Clark watched as the three werewolves drew closer. By the watch on its left wrist, the werewolf on the far right was most definitely Jimmy. So one of the other two had to be the original, and from this distance Clark struggled to determine which one should be his target. The dark night shrouded the entire situation far too heavily to make any worthy distinction between the other two, leaving him with quite a choice to make.

He gripped the stick tightly in his right hand. His eyes danced between the two remaining werewolves as they closed the distance to less than twenty yards. The time to choose had long past, and with a final grunt of strength, he rose to his knees and threw the stick with all his might. The small object twirled like a tomahawk in the night air and hit its target with the same speed and power as a bullet from a gun. It struck the werewolf in the middle of the pack and it dropped backwards to the ground like a lead weight. The other two werewolves stopped in mid-stride and raced back to the third.

Clark could not tell if he pierced the werewolf's heart, or if he even chose the right one, until the injured werewolf's body vanished in a cloud of ashes. The remaining werewolves immediately started to convulse and writhe helplessly, both dropping to the ground as the virus in their bodies struggled to stay alive. But the magical power of Ethan Hannigan's death was too much to battle, leaving the virus unable to survive on its own. Soon the long hair began to disappear, the claws began to recede, and both Zachary and Jimmy, naked, cold, and unconsciousness, returned back to normal.

Relieved and completely exhausted, Clark let the weight of his body take hold. He sat back on the ground heavily, glancing to Chloe to ensure she was still okay. Goosebumps had arisen on her skin from the cold and from the lack of clothing, so he removed his jacket and placed it over her upper body. Then he let his body drop back completely on the ground next to her. He reached over for her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently. When she still didn't stir, he closed his eyes and let the pain throbbing through his veins overcome him. With Chloe save, the werewolf dead, and Zachary and Jimmy safe, Clark could finally slip back into unconsciousness, as he had wanted to before. His body, his soul, his heart could take no more.

Moments of silence waved over them while the two laid there together in the dark woods. More than five minutes passed before Chloe finally let the world back in. She stirred and moved gently on the ground, eliciting a moan when the pain from her wound began to take full form. Her head swirled crazily, and when she opened her eyes, the starry sky spun in a circle, like the pictures inside a kaleidoscope. She realized the presence of someone lying next to her, though she could only guess whom it might be. Her mind could hardly fathom where she was or what had happened.

Rejuvenating air began to fill her lungs, and with a willful grunt, she pushed herself up to a sitting position and everything immediately returned. She had someone's jacket in her lap, and noticing how cold she felt, she slipped it on. Tall trees surrounded her on all sides, and the strong aroma of oak, dead leaves, and fresh grass gathered in her nostrils. The forestry attack of her senses reassured her that she was no longer in the cabin, tied up to a table and awaiting whatever grotesque fate the werewolves decided to give her. Instead she seemed to be safely outside of the small structure, and when she turned to look behind her, her attention drawn to the swirling colors of red and orange, Chloe saw the cabin engulfed completely in flames. Somehow, someway, she had been saved.

Then she noticed her hand was clutched tightly in the grip of another, of the one lying motionless beside her. She glanced down to the still form, and felt her heart immediately bubble over with emotion. Emotion she couldn't describe, and love she long ago tried to bury.

Chloe shuffled closer to Clark, her hero, and pulled him into her arms. She laid his head on her chest, just over her heart, tightening her hold. Her arms encircled him with the fervor of something she vowed never to let go of again. Soft lips grazed his temple, drifted in his hair to savor every drop of sweat and every drop of blood he sacrificed for her safety. His weak pulse hummed underneath her lips when she kissed his neck.

Drawing her lips back to his ear, tears of love glistened her cold cheeks as she whispered, "Stay with me, Clark. Don't you dare leave me now."

Clark remained still in her arms, eyes closed, and unresponsive. She hugged him closer and traced her fingertips along his cheek.

"You hear me, Kent?"

Silence.

"We still need to find each other."

As she rocked him back and forth in her arms, Chloe recognized a familiar shape in the lining of the red jacket around her shoulders - the jacket Clark gave her to keep her warm. Instantly she reached her hand to the inside pocket and found the answer to her prayers.

Clark's cell phone.

Chloe dialed the only number that could help, and the only one that carried the fewest questions. Placing the phone to her ear, she bent down and kissed Clark's forehead. "Don't worry ... now it's my turn to save you. After all the times you've rescued me from the depths of hell, it's the least I can do, right?" she remarked, half to herself and half to the one lying safely in her arms.

After the third ring, the other end finally picked up.

Chloe smiled and pressed her chin into Clark's hair. "Mrs. Kent? Free to make a pickup?"

**0000000000000000000000**

_**to be continued …**_


	19. Anywhere You Go

**Episode Nineteen: Anywhere You Go … **

**00000000000000000000000000000**

Smallville was a bit busier tonight than usual. While she stood motionless on the sidewalk of Main Street, Chloe hardly noticed the extra swell of people due to the holiday. With a satisfied smile, she breathed in through her nose then released with a refreshing sigh. She didn't realize how wonderful late October air could be, especially in her hometown. She had spent almost five full days in Metropolis Memorial Hospital after her kidnap and captivity by werewolves. So anything other than disinfectant-cleaned hospital rooms made her feel like she was standing in a rose garden. Even the manure-filtered air of Smallville seemed far more inviting than usual. Other than a short walk the day before to consume as much fresh air as the city of Metropolis could supply, Chloe had not ventured out for anything - or anyone, for that matter. Endless days lying helpless in a hospital bed had temporarily conformed her body into Jell-O, making it difficult for her to move easily, and she was sure it would take her just as long to feel normal again.

So when she came home the day before, she didn't want to do anything but sleep.

And go to Lois's Halloween costume party.

Throughout her restoration period, in between sleep and visitors, she deliberated endlessly on the horrific events of the past week. Each event played into the next like a movie script, starting with her friend's murder. From there it bellowed to different situations, scenarios, and suspects, all conjuring up to one nasty truth.

_Captured by werewolves._

Such unforgiving truth made her question her own sanity, no matter how often she enjoyed a good story of the mystical and paranormal. When Mrs. Kent visited her a day after her admittance into the hospital, Chloe could hardly discuss what happened to her due to the shock value alone. More than once she awoke from nightmares, as her mind played out what could have transpired if Clark had not come to her rescue. The events of the past few days felt more like a dream, and only the throbbing pain at her side reminded her that every lasting memory had come true.

When Chloe fell asleep each night in the bumpy hospital bed, she envisioned herself waking up the next morning in her own apartment. Sometimes she imagined waking up on her couch after spending the entire night trying to write her latest article. Other times she imagined waking up in her own bed with Clark Kent's strong arms around her, and with the feeling of his sweet breath on her neck.

Naturally, she asked Mrs. Kent the status of Clark's health during her visit. Although he slept almost all the time, she insisted he was okay. Because his beating from the werewolf was far more brutal the second time around, the severity of his injuries grew proportionately and the need for serious recuperation grew just as well. His body was definitely healing, but the process was taking a bit longer than usual. Every time Mrs. Kent changed her son's bandages, she took a good look at each wound to ensure he was improving. Thankfully, his body was slowly and continuously mending back into place. Shreds of kryptonite were still in his system, and until his body forced the intruding toxin out completely, his injuries would remain.

A few days after Chloe spoke with Mrs. Kent, she heard from Lois that Clark had finally shown his face after spending the entire weekend in his room. Mrs. Kent warded off Lois' concern for Clark by insisting her son was merely exhausted from his excursions on Wednesday night. Lois seemed satisfied by the impromptu explanation, and didn't ask for anything more to explain her friend's odd behavior. Due to the heavy pressure and planning of her upcoming costume party, she really didn't have the time to investigate the lie any further if she wanted to. She did, however, make time for her cousin by visiting her every day in the hospital, and bringing daily douses of coffee and gossip to help her through.

But Lois and Mrs. Kent were not her only visitors. Zachary had been minimally injured and was released from the hospital three days before Chloe. He visited her the day he left to thank her for saving him, and working so hard to find Abigail's killer. Though her death was tragic, Chloe and Clark's investigation ensured no one else would have to suffer. They had found and eliminated the werewolf, and because of Chloe's efforts she also earned herself a front page Daily Planet exclusive once she was able to write. When Zachary finally left, Chloe knew she would probably never see him again.

Jimmy had also visited her. He earned his right to leave over the weekend, and was forced to stay an extra day longer than Zachary because his system rejected the meteor rock far more harshly. He suffered from flu-like symptoms during most of his stay in the hospital, and the doctors let him leave once he stopped throwing up his breakfast every morning. Though he looked far better now than he did the night they spent in the emergency room together, he still looked pale and in desperate need of sleep. He apologized endlessly for kidnapping her, stabbing her, and trying to rape her. However, just as Zachary, he remembered nothing from his experience as a werewolf, and was forced to use Chloe's version of the events to fill in the gaps. She knew there was no way he could have stopped himself from doing those horrific things. He had been far too consumed by the disease to be even remotely effective. But he apologized like a guilty party anyway.

Clark was the only one who didn't visit her, but he did have a good excuse. Even so, she expected him to show up at her apartment when she came home on Monday, just so they could heal together under one roof. She longed to spend the night in his arms, and kiss away his wounds. She thought of the scenario constantly while in the hospital, and all but expected to open her apartment door and find him waiting for her on her couch, or even in her bed. She still couldn't move very well, just as she was sure he would have trouble doing the same. Nevertheless, they could have used the time together for the conversation they had both wanted to have in the past week - or, more accurately, the past few months, but were too afraid.

However, he never came. And she spent the night lying in her bed, wishing he were there beside her. Wondering why it felt like he was avoiding her.

Chloe walked gingerly down Main Street of Smallville, towards the flashing lights of the Talon awaiting her in the distance. The injury to her side was not nearly as fatal as it could have been, though it still throbbed with pain throughout the day. Thankfully, when Jimmy stabbed her in the left side with his claws he narrowly missed all of her vital organs. The doctors took a number of X-rays and cat-scans to ensure nothing had been severely injured or broken, and nothing bad came up on the tests. His claws had not gone deep enough into her body to be permanently destructive, though it would take a little time for her muscles to heal. Good prognosis or not, the pain subsided only partially over the past few days. Painkillers helped her feel semi-normal, rather than a woman who had just been kidnapped and stabbed.

Thoughts on her recent days of pain slipped from her mind as she stepped up onto the sidewalk and surveyed the outside of her favorite coffee shop. It had been decorated appropriately for the holiday. Orange and black streamers were hung loosely from the marquee, along with gray, stringy cobwebs with huge, fake spiders in every corner. Flying bats dropped down from above whenever prompted by movement, scaring guests who didn't see the special effect when they first arrived. The harsh chill in the air forced the party to stay mostly inside, though a few guests ventured out to be alone. Two lovebirds dressed as Romeo and Juliet stood less than twenty-feet away from the entrance while they kissed heatedly, and continuously. Music, mixed with Halloween ghostly sound effects, blared from inside the building and out into the street. The party was mostly harmless, but Chloe was sure sooner or later someone in this quaint town of Smallville would call the police to report the violation of the city noise ordinance.

On her approach to the entrance, none of the guests loitering on the outside gave her even a glance of curiosity, or suspicion. Actually, as Chloe stepped inside the main entrance and gazed at the moving mass of people inside, she realized she knew less than half of the guests. The room was full to capacity, and she discovered another reason why the police might pop-in - violation of fire safety laws. Chloe only hoped Smallville residents were throwing their own Halloween parties, or were too preoccupied with other holiday festivities to care about a party that might get out of control if given the right stimuli. People accidentally bumped her continuously as she struggled to walk through the crowd, heading towards the main counter to find Lois. One man in particular, dressed as a werewolf of all things, pushed her squarely in the middle of her shoulder blades as he shimmied past her. Her side flamed with pain from the after shocks of the rude push, and she had to clench her teeth to stifle her cry and her curse.

Her walk through fire had not been in vain, however. Lois, dressed in a black cat costume with tail and all, was standing at the counter talking with a few guests, all of whom Chloe could notch in her_ unfamiliar people _category. Any other social event, Chloe would be happy to meet new people. But when the three guests ventured off a few seconds later and left Lois alone at the counter, Chloe felt a twinge of relief. Tonight she could hardly will herself out of her comfy bed to go to the party, let alone conjure up enough fake smiles to make it through a night jammed with meaningless conversations. More than likely, she would not remember any of these people tomorrow morning, and they wouldn't remember her. Chloe was primarily here for two people, and she had no wish to lengthen the list.

"Chloe," Lois greeted with a warm smile, her gaze finally drawn to her cousin as she stepped forward.

Chloe smiled weakly in return. "I thought you said this was going to be a small affair."

Lois shrugged and handed her cousin a glass of punch from the counter, of which Chloe denied with a wave of her hand. "Well, I have this new boyfriend who happens to know more people in Metropolis than I've known in my entire lifetime. These are just his close friends."

"Hmm ... I thought this was your party?"

"Considering he's paying for a few of the expenses, it can be his, too."

"I'm surprised he didn't change the location to the Metropolis Sharks football stadium. I heard its available tonight," Chloe retorted lightly, curving her lips to a half smile.

Lois huffed lightly, and then promptly changed the subject. "Care to tell me what doctor gave you the permission slip to be social tonight? I distinctly remember him ordering you to keep your ass nice and cozy in your apartment and stay there for at least a week."

"I've already been in bed for a week," Chloe replied, though she intended to heed her doctor's advice once she found what she came here for. Though her mind wanted to go back to the Planet, work, and kiss farm boys until she couldn't breath, her body could not handle more than a few hours out of bed. "I just needed to stare at something more than the bad paint job on my apartment walls."

"Like cute photographers?" Lois teased. Chloe looked to her irritably, and Lois feigned ignorance. "That's right. You broke it off, though you never told me why."

"I told you why," she protested, reaching to the dish of candy corn on the counter and grabbing one. "I didn't love him."

"It just came as a surprise," Lois replied. "I thought you were happy with him."

"I was."

"Then why the sudden 180? You were with him for a few months, and you did have sex with him. Did Jimmy's hairy side really look that bad?"

Chloe pursed her lips. "It had nothing to do with werewolves. Or that he tried to rape me."

"And kill you."

After a moment of silence and careful consideration of how much she wanted to reveal, Chloe finally admitted, "I guess maybe the experience reminded me of how screwed up my version of love and happiness really was. I was with Jimmy because I had feelings for him, and because he was my first. I thought it would lead to more. After our summer together, and after the recent months of feeling unexplained apprehension towards the physical intimacy in our relationship, I finally realized why nothing between us would ever grow stronger than mild infatuation."

Lois looked to Chloe earnestly. "Okay, I'll bite. Why?"

Chloe's eyes glazed over for a moment, and when she finally spoke, she said casually, "Because my heart belongs to someone else."

Lois waited for her cousin to add to her declaration, but she remained silent, lost in her thoughts. She remembered when Chloe told her about her love affair with Jimmy Olsen. By first impression, Lois wondered whether the relationship had the strength to last long. Her reservations stemmed from various reasons, though she always believed it was healthy for Chloe to extend her life further than Smallville and those who resided within - further than her past here, and further than the boy who repeatedly broke her heart. Her fling with Jimmy did accomplish many good things, but it also made Chloe blind to reality. She liked Jimmy: so much so that she lost her virginity to him, and slept with him afterwards on more than one occasion. They parted their first time around due to Jimmy's apparent lack of interest, but it didn't stop Chloe from hooking up with him again a few years later. She tried the relationship the second time because of the tickle of wonder in the back of her throat - had she and Jimmy parted prematurely? Had something meaningful seriously resided there?

Now gazing upon her cousin, Lois smiled with a glimmer of pride. Chloe had grown from the naive girl she remembered, turning into a woman who loved someone, lost someone, and was painfully aware of her mistakes and shortcomings. And after all of it, Chloe stepped back into the light with a new maturity, and with the same love that has ceased to leave her. She understood her feelings better now, and with an experienced, seasoned view of someone who knew what it meant to be in love.

And for the first time, Lois sensed Chloe was not standing in the new light alone.

"I'm sure Jimmy didn't give you up easily," Lois finally replied, choosing to keep her thoughts to herself.

"Actually, he called me quite a few times yesterday, and asked if I'd be willing to give him a second chance."

"And you said no?"

Chloe smirked. "Yeah ... I told him it wouldn't be fair to either of us. Because I knew I would never love him the way he loved me."

Lois took her glass of punch off the counter and took a sip. "Since you're not sleeping with him anymore, can I tell you something?"

"Okay," she said.

Lois swallowed uneasily and lowered her eyes. She had wanted to say this ever since Chloe and Jimmy hooked up, and only because she could not ignore her dire need to look after her dear cousin. They were practically sisters, after all. With Jimmy's presence finally lifted from the air, it gave Lois the freedom to say everything she suppressed for far too long.

_Everything_ could be summed up in only a few words.

"You were too good for him."

Chloe squinted her eyes in mild surprise. "Really?" she asked disbelieving.

Lois nodded. "You could have done much better. I knew he wasn'tthe one for you from the moment you met him."

"How could you tell?"

Lois shrugged and looked out across the sea of people, dressed as ghosts, witches, vampires, and aliens. She bypassed the words, '_Because I've watched a sweet guy love you from a distance for months, with the fire you've waited for_,' and said instead, "He was a nice guy and all, but he followed you around like a lost, little puppy. He didn't challenge you, or excite you. You seemed happy with him, but it always seemed like something was missing in your relationship with him. I always felt you settled for him, because you couldn't have what you really wanted. And like you said, you didn't love him."

Chloe looked to her curiously, but then decided not to press the issue. Thoughts of Jimmy slipped from her mind easily, like a good dream lost in the shine of a new day. She would always think of him fondly, but never with the same intensity of a girlfriend and lover. Those days were gone now, no matter how hard Jimmy tried to fight it or wish for its return. Her heart felt drained and ready to be recharged by the one she's waited her entire life to love.

Aside from the search for her wayward lover and best friend, her curiosity also brought her here tonight. Something inside of her purse beamed with intensity, waiting to be addressed and burning a metaphysical hole in the material as she spoke with Lois. She rested her hand on the outside of her purse, and felt it's momentary pulse fall into rhythm with her soul.

"So who're you supposed to be, anyway?" Lois suddenly asked, absorbing Chloe's dress and drastically changing the subject from boyfriends to the here and now.

Chloe gave herself a once over. Having no energy to find anything more suitable, she chose to wear a pair of comfortable jeans and a nice, low-cut maroon sweater, with her winter coat to help ward off the chill. With a little smile, she looked to Lois wearily. "A woman who just survived a werewolf attack and didn't feel like dressing up as Frankenstein's bride this year?"

Lois laughed. "Okay, I deserved that. So why are you here, if not to have a little Halloween fun?"

Chloe slipped a hand into her purse to grab the item, though kept both her hand and the object hidden until she explained. Rubbing her thumb along the object's smooth, worn surface, she asked quietly, leaning in close, "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Always."

"Promise me you won't tell anyone? I mean,_ anyone_?" Chloe asked, desperate for her cousin to say yes. Needing to tell someone about this.

"Of course," Lois promised, lowering her voice and feeling strangely worried. "What's going on?"

Chloe fingered the object in her purse nervously, wondering if she was doing the right thing. But forever, she would always wonder. And she knew it. "Before the weekend of the festival, I started receiving letters," she finally murmured quietly.

Lois stepped closer, interest piqued. "Letters?"

Chloe bit her lip. "Yeah ... love letters."

"From who? Jimmy?"

"No, not Jimmy. I don't think so, anyway. He's the flowers and chocolate, overbearing type, not the poetry writing, subtle type."

Lois smirked knowingly. "I don't know. Men can surprise you, especially when they're trying to get you into bed."

"This is different," Chloe pressed. "All of the letters are signed Secret Admirer at the bottom, so I thought it was the werewolf playing some freaky, twisted, Shakespearian game with me. The way it was written, the words he used, the mysterious way he revealed his feelings for me. He asked to meet me in the park the night I was attacked."

"Wait, hold on," Lois interrupted, putting up her hands. "So that's why you were in the park that night? To meet some guy you didn't even know and who probably wanted to gut you like a dead fish?"

"Well, I wanted the exclusive," she explained, smiling as if it explained everything.

Lois rolled her eyes. "Okay, whatever. Go on," she insisted, gesturing to her with a hand.

"Well, after I was hunted in the park, the letters stopped coming. I figured something had frightened him off, or maybe the window of opportunity that permitted him to use me next to fulfill his disgusting fetish had vanished," Chloe explained, her words closing with a note of amusement. "Obviously, a day later, while tied spread-eagled in a basement, I realized werewolves didn't give up so easily. But on the fourth day I was in the hospital, after the werewolf was killed, a nurse gave me a note, saying it was left for me at the nurses' station. She couldn't give me the man's identity, because he used the hospital grapevine to send the letter to me."

"So if it's not the werewolf, who do you think it is?"

Chloe pulled the note from her purse, and handed it to Lois. "I don't know. But he's quite the romantic."

Lois glanced to Chloe curiously, then opened the envelope with Chloe's name on the front and slipped the small piece of paper inside out from its pocket. The back of the small, white piece of paper was completely blank. The other side, however, had words stretched lazily into stanzas, written by hand in a way Lois did not immediately recognize. The white paper held the slightest fragrance, as if it had been touched up with the scent of lavender - Chloe's favorite aroma, Lois recalled. At the edge, outlining the words in a picture frame of color were flowers, purple, red, and white. When she drew her thumb along one of the flowers, she realized they were actually drawn on the paper rather than previously etched during the manufacture of the card. Whoever had sent this card had put a lot of time into it, and she hadn't even read the poem yet.

The card read as follows:

_Dear Ms. Sullivan,_

_I awake from my sleep, and you're there  
__Next to me, ghostly, beautiful, angelic  
__You comfort me when I feel pain  
__You are my star when I fade into darkness  
__I gaze upon you like the single rose  
__Blossoming towards the sun on a spring's day  
__Giving me hope in a world of unforgiving sacrifice_

_You are the music in my soul,  
__A rhythm forever burned into the symphony of my existence  
__In you, I find reason to live  
__I find my purpose, to ensure you live for eternity  
__And to love you until my last breath_

_For this is my vow, for now and evermore_

_I hope we can meet again, under the stars of Halloween night  
__Look for me at Lois Lane's costume party  
__I'll be dressed as the Phantom of the Opera_

_I pray you will come, find me ... _

_Your Secret Admirer_

Lois remained silent as she read through the poem. Chloe tried to predict what her cousin might say, but after thirty seconds of muted silence, interrupted by the noises from the party still thriving around them, she feared no response would come. Did she misinterpret the poem? Maybe the man behind the words really did want to harm her, and maybe she really did have reason to form a posse to search for his whereabouts before it was too late. Something inside of her, however, refused to believe the latter. The tone of the words spoke of a sincerity she didn't see when she read the first set of poems, while she felt hunted by werewolves. Now, under a different impression, Chloe caught the glimpse of a love as pure as a baby's first cry, and as breathtaking as the reflection of snow-capped mountains upon a crystalline lake.

For reasons she couldn't fully explain, Chloe needed to know the author. It was an urgency she just could not fight.

"So?" Chloe asked nervously, gazing from the letter to Lois, and back again. "What does it say to you?"

Lois carefully placed the card back into the envelope, and then handed it to her cousin. She shrugged casually, but could not hide the gentle smile forming on her lips. "He's definitely trying to get you into bed."

Chloe let out an irritated sigh. "That's all you have to say? I expected at least traffic signals, like red or green as to whether I should do something about this guy."

Lois smirked knowingly. "I'm not going to tell you what to do," she replied. "But I am going to tell you that I did see a Phantom of the Opera haunt through here less than half an hour ago."

"What?" Chloe asked in a hushed whisper, her eyes growing wide, uncertain if she could believe her cousin. "Where is he?"

"I don't know," Lois admitted, gazing across the sea of people once more. "But he's dressed in a black cape and a white mask. I know it's a costume party, but he shouldn't be too difficult to find."

Chloe ignored her cousin's sarcasm as she turned and started back through the crowd. She didn't see anything on her way through when she first arrived, but she was primarily looking for Lois. Not to mention the immediate vastness of the party had been a bit overwhelming on first entry. Now with a revised view of her surroundings, Chloe searched through the people with an acute eye. However, no guest looked even remotely like the Phantom of the Opera, dressed with the expected black cape, tuxedo, and white mask. Obviously the werewolf case had received quite the popular publicity, because most of the guests were adorned as scary monsters, demons, and aliens.

When she reached the other side of the crowd, closer to the entrance in whence she came, Chloe felt a twinge of disappointment that she neglected to find her admirer.

But her disappointment would be short lived.

_**Time  
**__**Where did you go?  
**__**Why did you leave me here alone?**_

For as she turned to span the center of the crowd once more, a clear outline of a tall, dark man finally came into clear view through the waves of people. He stood motionless next to the table of refreshments near the center of the room, with his back turned to her so she could not see his face. He wore a long, black cape that flowed gracefully to the floor, and a top hat on his head to keep his identity well hidden. She had hoped the color of the man's hair might give her a clue as to who he might be, but the hat made it impossible to decipher any physical characteristics. Given no warning as to what she could expect, Chloe took a deep breath and walked to him with a cautious stride in her step. Though no one spoke with him, people hovered around him like a magnet, making it difficult for her to reach him easily.

After she pushed through the people, Chloe soon found herself standing behind him. Her breath quickened in her lungs, strained by her nerves. But she wouldn't let her apprehension stop her from seeing the man's face.

_**Wait  
**__**Don't go so fast  
**__**I'm missing the moments as they pass**_

With a touch to his arm, she gestured for him to turn. And slowly he followed her insistence and faced her head on.

The right side of his face was covered with a white mask ...

And Chloe didn't hesitate to remove it, and reveal her heart's deepest desire.

"_Clark_," she breathed softly, pleasantly shocked by his presence. "You ...?"

_**Now I've looked in the mirror  
**__**And the world's getting clearer  
**__**So wait for me this time**_

He swallowed hard and reached for her hand. Face riddled with regret, he insisted quietly, "I am so sorry I didn't get to that park sooner. I tried, but the nurse I was interviewing in the Medical Center wouldn't stop rattling on about her recent divorce."

Chloe's head started to spin as she desperately tried to remember everything that went on in the past week. The letters, the emails ... _the park_. Suddenly his heroic appearance to save her life that night was completely explained. He hadn't miraculously shown up, nor did he hear her scream all the way from Smallville. He was there that night because he was the admirer all along, and he was heading for the park to begin with. Clark had actually been late that night, just like always. She, on the other hand, had gone there early because she wanted to catch an exclusive glimpse of the werewolf whom she believed had been stalking her. It never occurred to her that Clark's pinpoint appearance stemmed directly from the love letters.

A thousand questions started to form in her mind as she absorbed more and more of this revelation, all drawing back to one word.

"Why?" she whispered, searching his eyes. They looked different now, shaded with a flavor or adoration she refused to see before. "Clark ... why didn't you just tell me?"

_**I'm down  
**__**I'm down to my knees  
**__**I'm begging for all your sympathy**_

Clark cleared his throat nervously, even though he knew she would ask him this question. The speech he had practiced in his room over and over again formed at the back of his throat all on it's own when the question left Chloe's lips, urging him to squash his hindering concerns once and for all. Through the words he has written in the love letters over the past week, she knew of his feelings now. But the time to explain them, and why they formed had finally come. He entwined their fingers delicately, craving her touch to give him courage to say everything he's wanted to for months.

And with an intake of breath, he began.

_**But you (I'm just an illusion)  
**__**You don't seem to care (I wish that I could)  
**__**You humble people everywhere (I don't mean to hurt you)**_

"I couldn't tell you," he replied, his voice fighting the crowd noise around them. "I wanted to. When we ... kissed at the Planet, I really thought we shared a moment. It aroused something inside of me that I didn't understand. Feelings I thought I had buried back in high school came storming back like a freight train, and I had no idea how to deal with it. When I came back from the Phantom Zone, I came looking for you at the Planet because I wanted to try it with you. I wanted to see if a relationship between us would work. But I didn't say anything because you seemed so ... smitten with Jimmy at the time, and I thought the opportunity had passed."

Chloe remembered the moment vividly. Clark had just come back from his time in the Phantom Zone, and after having just saved the world for the hundredth time. He had come to see her and make sure she was okay, and like good friends seeing each other after an unbearable time apart, they had hugged tightly. With a terrible sting in her heart, Chloe recalled the conversation between the two of them over in her mind. Clark was trying to tell her something before she interrupted him, because she believed she sensed what he was about to say. Due to the number of angst-ful moments they've had in the past, she was sure he wanted to keep their friendship on the platonic level; no matter the expectations their passionate kiss seemed to carry. She spared him from having to dribble over his words as he seemingly struggled to find a way to let her down easily.

_**Now I've looked in the mirror  
**__**And the world's getting clearer  
**__**I'll take what you give me  
**__**Please know that I'm learning  
**__**So wait for me this time**_

Yet it was not the reason why he had come to see her that day at all. Now, as Chloe searched back, she realized he had come because he truly wanted to try it with her. Not because he felt obligated, or because of those dreaded expectations she herself fell victim to. No, he wanted it. _He wanted her_.

"Oh, Clark," she said softly, tightening her grip on his hand. How could she have been so stupid? Why did Jimmy's sudden appearance at the time make her so blind?

Clark drew her closer to him, and she stepped easily into his embrace.

"For awhile, I thought you were right. I thought the moment we shared was just some _'end of the world' _thing, and what I felt was merely a foggy result of it. But the fact is, my feelings haven't gone away, no matter how hard I've tried to fight them. Since our kiss I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. You're the first thought when I wake up, and the last before I fall asleep. And you're in all my dreams."

_**I should've known better  
**__**I shouldn't have wasted those days**_

Chloe lowered her head and closed her eyes. She never imagined she would ever hear this from Clark. Words from the love letters began to filter back into her mind like a wonderful reminder, reassuring her that his intentions here were genuine.

_You are the music in my soul / A rhythm forever burned into the symphony of my existence / In you, I find reason to live / I find my purpose, to ensure you live for eternity / And to love you until my last breath. _

Everything in this moment felt more like a fairy tale, and she considered maybe the entire episode had been a dream. Maybe this was her mind's way of telling her how she longed for Clark just as much as he seemed to long for her.

_**And afternoons and mornings  
**__**I threw them all away**_

"The dance we shared at the Fall Festival only made me want you more. I tried to tell you how I felt then, but you didn't seem to want to hear it. So I didn't want to push, not until you were ready."

_**Now  
**__**This is my time  
**__**And I'm going to make this moment mine (I shouldn't have wasted those days)**_

When his hand caressed her face, tilting her head up so he could look deep into her eyes, the tears streaming down her cheeks promised her that his love was most definitely real.

"It was the reason why I asked to see you in the park that night. I wanted you to know how much you truly meant to me."

_**I'll take what you give me  
**_**_Please know that I'm learning_**

Clark ran his thumb gently across her cheekbone, and held her stare. She didn't say a word, but the reflection of her heart within the blue of her beautiful eyes was enough to convince him to keep going. "I love you," he whispered. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her even tighter against him. "I need you, Chloe. I _need_ you."

_**I've looked in the mirror  
**__**And my world's getting clearer  
**__**So wait for me this time.**_

Before she had the chance to respond, he tilted her chin closer, lowered his lips, and kissed her. It was not the most passionate kiss she had ever received, nor the most powerful. But in the tender caress of his lips, Chloe felt everything around them fade away. Her knees buckled when their tongues softly touched. Her entire body tingled pleasurably every second his fingertips tickled the back of her neck. And for the first time in months she remembered why she fell in love with a farm boy from Kansas.

When he finally pulled away, Chloe encircled his waist with her arms and placed her head gently on his chest. She smiled when she heard a strong beat thumping in her ear, because for the first time in her life she could claim this heart as hers.

_**This time**_

_**Fade song … **_

**_0000000000000000000000000_**

**_epilogue to come soon_**


End file.
